Marines and Elites
by SirPotato
Summary: There are two squads that terrible soldiers are dumped into. One is the UNSC Equipment Testers and the Covenant 800 Squad. What will happen when these two squads meet? Rated M to be safe.
1. A Typical Day

**Marines and Elites**

**Chapter 1: A Typical Day**

* * *

**Marines**

It was more or less an average day at Valhalla base. Howard had seen it fit to put both Ed and Tim on scout duty. This was mainly because Ed had decided to use the rest of the coffee and Tim and Howard couldn't stay in the same room without having a small argument. So now the two were standing on top of the base looking over the canyon.

"Hey Ed." Tim said.

Ed looked at him. "What?"

"Do you ever wonder why we're here?"

It took Ed a few seconds to register what he said. Then he said again "What?"

Tim looked over the canyon. "I mean, being sent here to the middle of nowhere-"

"What? You seriously don't know why we're here?"

"Well yeah. Wait, do you?"

"**Yes.**" Ed looked at Tim quizzically. "They told us in a meeting room before we left."

"We actually talk about stuff in those meetings?" Tim said in surprise. "I fell asleep in my helmet."

"Oh, for God's sake…"

"What's going on?" Howard walked up to the base roof. "Everything alright?"

"Tim doesn't know why we're here." Ed reported.

"Seriously?" Howard looked at Tim, exasperated. "I knew you were stupid but not that stupid."

"Hey, don't judge me!" Tim snapped. "I have very poor concentration skills!"

"You don't say." Ed muttered.

"Tim, have you ever listened to the officials in meetings?" Howard asked.

"No. To me it's all just more of the same."

"More of the same..." Ed said slowly.

"Boredom."

"Ah."

"Okay," Howard explained. "We are here to test UNSC equipment."

"What?!"

"The equipment we get ranges from weapons to vehicles and if they work, then we send them back to command."

"What if they don't work?" Ed asked.

"We melt them into scrap metal."

"Seriously?!" Tim was outraged. "Every other soldier is out fighting the Covenant and we are here testing equipment?!"

"Consider it a blessing." Ed said. "I personally don't fancy fighting aliens."

Howard looked at Tim. It was partly the truth. The reason that they were on a completely different planet to test stuff was because they were all terrible soldiers. He was actually surprised that they hadn't ended up as simulation troopers for Project Freelancer.

"Come on." Tim said. "Fighting the Covenant makes us heroes. **Heroes**."

"No Tim." Howard countered. "Fighting the Covenant is suicide. They have better weaponry, better vehicles, better food-"

"Alright, alright." Tim was a bit annoyed now. "Still, it would be great to kill at least a Grunt."

"To whom, us, or you?" Ed said.

"Does it matter?"

"Yeah, because if it was you then you wouldn't be able to get close enough to kill a Grunt."

"Why not?"

This was an easy question. "Because you are way too much of a coward to-"

"Whoa, whoa! I am **not** a coward!"

"Yes you are Tim. Probably the biggest coward in the UNSC."

"I am not!"

"Yes you are!"

"Not!"

"Are!"

"Not!"

"Are!"

Howard briefly wondered whether this argument would end at midday or midnight.

Then he decided to try to end it now.

"Okay," he started. "That's quite-"

"Not!"

"Are!"

"Both of you shut up!"

"Not!"

"Are!"

With a sigh of frustration, Howard decided to give up.

"I am not! I swear, the next time I see an Elite or something, I am gonna kill it!"

"Okay, realistically Tim, what are the chances of seeing an actual Elite?" Howard cut in, trying to apply logic to this.

Tim thought about it for a bit, then said "Yeah, I suppose you're right."

* * *

**Author's Notes**

**Don't worry, there's more to this. I just bundled together two chapters for this.**


	2. New Arrivals

**Marines and Elites**

**Chapter 2: New Arrivals**

* * *

**Elites**

Atar marched down the corridor, his maroon General armour splatted with crimson blood.

"Alright brave Sangheili!" he called to his squad.

"**Brave** Sangheili?!" Utarz called from the back. "You're kidding right?"

"Shut it!" Atar growled. "There are more humans boarding the ship! We must repel them!"

The _Last Resort_ had been attacked and boarded by human soldiers. Of course, by now it was quite obvious that the ship was going to go down but that didn't stop Atar from trying to kill at least fifty humans.

So far, he had killed thirty-five. Only fifteen more to go.

"Sir!" Tracer called up. "The ship's going to go down!"

Atar looked back at Tracer. Loyal as the Spec Ops trooper was, he had some serious bravery issues.

Of course, this didn't surprise him. His squad was the Covenant 800 Squad, a collection of the worst Covenant soldiers ever collected.

"I know! But that doesn't stop a Sangheili warrior! Besides, I haven't reached my target yet."

It was quite clear that Tracer was panicking. "Sir, with all due respect, I would highly recommend evasive manoeuvres."

Atar spun around. "Are you suggesting that we run away?!"

Tracer hid behind Utarz before saying "Uh… Yes sir."

Atar strode up to him, furious. "What is wrong with you?! A Sangheili warrior never retreats."

An idea formed in Utarz's head. Then he said "We're not retreating! We're advancing!"

Atar blinked and looked at him. "What?"

"Yeah! We're advancing to further victories!"

Atar digested this idea. He had killed fifteen humans short of his goal but he had to admit that Utarz had a point.

"Forward soldiers! To further victories!"

Unable to believe that Atar just fell for that, Tracer followed his commander.

The trio ran to the vehicle bay. In order to escape they needed to find a Phantom.

Which there were none.

"Quick! To that Banshee!"

Utarz looked at the Banshee. "Umm, who's going in it?"

"We all are." Atar said this as though it were obvious.

"What?! I am not squishing next to Tracer thank you very much!"

"Would you rather go down with the ship?"

As it turned out, they did all manage to get in. Although, it was an extremely tight fight.

"Tracer, get your ass off of mine."

"Why don't you move a bit, eh?"

"**I can't.**"

"Both of you be quiet!"

They escaped the ship but they had to make an emergency landing in a small canyon with two identical spires.

"Hold on!" Atar instructed. "I'm going to try and land on top of that spire!"

"You're crazy!" Utarz screamed. "We'll never make it!"

"You're right! Fuck this!"

At this point, the Banshee hit the spire and exploded.

* * *

It took Atar some time to wake up.

He groaned. "What happened?"

It all started to come back, piece by piece. "Wait... The ship was being boarded... we escaped in the... and then the crash..."

Deciding that he would be better with his squad he began to call out. "Tracer! Utarz!" Atar considered for a bit, then shouted "Preferably Tracer!"

"Here! Up here!"

Atar looked up and saw a distinctive Sangheili Minor in blue armour.

"Here! It's Utarz! I'm up here!"

Atar groaned and muttered "Why does this always happen to me?" Then he called up to Utarz. "Get down here numb-nuts!"

Utarz cringed. He had grown up to years of being addressed like that. He hated the nickname though. It made him feel smaller than he liked to feel.

Utarz jumped from the tree he was in. "That's my welcome? You're always the nice one, aren't you Atar?"

Atar closed his eyes. Then he opened them and said "For the millionth time. You address me as either General or sir."

"Fuck that. You always call me numb-nuts."

Utarz was a special Sangheili. Unlike all the rest, he had no concerns regarding honour. Due to this, he had spent most of his time in the Sangheili underworld, mostly in the strip clubs and brothels. He was literally forced to join the army by his parents, hoping that it would either make him correct his behaviour, or at least learn the importance of honour.

They were wrong on both counts. Utarz had been in the army for sixteen years and never gotten a promotion. Coupled with his inability to fire straight and refusal to be respectful, he had ended up in the Covenant 800 Squad.

So it was only natural for Atar to hate Utarz for many different reasons.

"**I** am in a position of power." Atar reminded him. "**You** are not."

At this point a purple Spec Ops Sangheili walked out from behind the spire. "Ow ow ow ow."

Atar noticed him. "Good to see that you made it Tracer."

Tracer groaned in pain. "Same to you sir."

Tracer was a different case altogether. He was perfectly respectful, never disobeyed orders and was very intelligent. His reputation as an excellent strategist earned him a promotion to Spec Ops soldier. At first, Atar had wondered why Tracer was even in the 800 Squad. But then, he realised that Tracer liked to be perfectly precise, to the point where it took him an hour to do so much as shoot a gun. Nevertheless, Atar made Tracer second-in-command, which for some reason annoyed Utarz.

As to prove how much he was jealous of Tracer, Utarz chose that moment to say "Oh come on. You say," Utarz mimicked Atar's voice "'good to see you made it' to Tracer and to me you say 'get down here numb-nuts.'"

"And what, that surprises you?" Tracer commented drily.

"No, but it still pisses me off!"

"Utarz, if you want respect, you have to prove that you deserve it."

"Enough." Atar said. "We need to set up camp here."

"Why?" Utarz asked.

"Simple! We may be here for days until command figures out we're here. We need shelter and food to sustain us for any amount of time!"

This left two unanswered questions for Utarz. "Ok, my next question is why would command save us and the one after that would be what are we going to use as a base."

Atar pondered the first question for a moment. Then he said "I don't actually have an answer to the first question. Tracer, the second question if you please."

"Well sir, this spire does have some rooms in it. We could use it has a temporary base."

"What about weaponry?" Utarz asked. "I mean, what if there are hostile guys out here?"

"Well with that point we're screwed." Tracer replied. "The only weapons we have are the ones we're holding and I don't even know if they work anymore."

"Mine sure doesn't." Utarz growled. "I sometimes think that command gave me dud weapons so that I die in battle."

"Well actually, that's me and sir who arranged that."

"Oh. Well that makes sense."

"Relax Utarz." Atar replied. "There are some weapons in the Banshee before we left."

"There are?"

"Of course! This is my personal Banshee."

"It is?"

"Yes! I packed the weapons in a secret compartment years ago!"

"You did?!"

"Utarz, just assume that everything I'm saying is correct."

Attempting to stop the argument at this point, Tracer said "Uh, should I start building some defences sir?"

"What with?" Utarz asked. "With the destroyed Banshee?"

"Actually, that's exactly what I plan on doing."

"How are you going to do that?"

Tracer stated it like it was obvious. "I'm going to pull it apart, get whatever plasma cores I can find and build a plasma turret. Or several."

"Good on you Tracer!" Atar said. "Get to work on it. Who knows what kind of hazardous beasts luck around here?"

"Zombies?" Utarz suggested.

"You're an idiot."

* * *

**Marines**

Howard looked up at the sky. "Right, the drop should be here in about… five minutes."

"You said that ten minutes ago." Ed pointed out.

"Well, I might actually be right this time!"

"This is boring." Tim said, indeed sounding bored. "I'm going back to base."

"Tim!" Howard snapped as Tim went back to the base. "We're supposed to stand here and wait for the supply drop!"

"Oh come on, that drop's coming all the way from Earth!" Tim replied, clearly forgetting about Slipspace. "The drop could take days to get here, weeks, months or even years!"

**CRASH**

A metal box fell from the sky and landed on Tim.

The other two soldiers stared at it for a few seconds before Ed said "Drop's here."

* * *

**Author's Notes**

**So I think these first two chapters went pretty well. If you have any constructive criticism, that would be nice.**


	3. Testing, Testing

**Marines and Elites**

**Chapter 3: Testing, Testing**

* * *

**Marines**

"Well," Howard said. "All things considered, I think we got a pretty good haul."

"Yeah." Ed replied. "It's not every day we get a vehicle in the drop. How much does all this weigh?"

"All things considered, ehhh, about a ton."

"Jesus. It's hard to believe that Tim's still alive."

"I feel dizzy now." Tim's voice came from inside the base.

"Don't worry Tim." Howard called back. "That's just blood loss."

A small pause followed, then "Was that supposed to comfort me?!"

"No." Howard turned back to Ed. "Considering Tim's record, I'm not altogether surprised. His medical record shows that his skull thickness and strength is well beyond that of a normal human's."

"How thick?" Ed asked.

"About 15 centimetres."

"That explains a lot."

"Indeed."

"You guys realize that I can hear you, right?" Tim's voice sounded annoyed.

"Yeah, that's great Tim." Ed called back. "Real great."

"There's no need to shout! I can hear you just fine!"

"Wonderful, really great!" Ed was shouting regardless. He turned to Howard and muttered "I still think we would be better off if the drop **had **killed him."

"Me too, but he's our cousin. It's our job to protect him." Howard whispered back. "The only way I can see him dying is if we die first."

"I can still hear you!" Tim shouted.

Ed stared at the source of the noise. "How does he do that?"

Howard shrugged. "Who knows? It's just Tim."

"True." Ed looked at the drop. Now that he looked at it properly, he had no idea what any of it was. "What did we get?"

Howard began shifting through it all. "Well, this here's a prototype grenade launcher, this is a machine gun, this is a... hmm, what is this..."

Ed looked at the said object. "I think it's a type of rifle. There were some rumours about a gun that you had to pull back to fire, and it shot out a sort of bullet that-"

"It's a grenade."

"I knew that."

Howard smirked. "I'm sure you did."

"Yeah..." Tim was limping towards them. "You have to admit though, it looks nothing like a grenade."

"Back on our feet already, are we?" Howard asked.

"Yep." Tim grinned, already cocky as usual. "Thanks to that weird gun, I'm ready to go again."

Howard chuckled. "Interesting. Not many people are ready to get hit with a metal box again."

"Where did you get that thing anyway?" Ed asked, curious.

"What thing?"

"The healing gun thing."

"Oh, that thing? I found it in an abandoned medical facility in Mexico."

"Huh."

"Yeah, it had been around for centuries. I had to repair it and make some modifications."

Tim looked at the box that had almost crushed him. He whistled. "Wow. Someone at command likes us."

"Can't be. Remember? My cousin works at command." Howard replied.

"Oh yeah." Tim picked up the machine gun. "Is this what I think it is?"

"Yes." Ed said. "Don't get too excited though. We can't keep it."

Tim stared at him. "Can we keep the Warthog?"

"No." Howard said. "We just have to test it."

"Awwww." Tim groaned. Then he brightened. "Can we test them now?"

"Yeah, I guess." Howard said. "I'll try the Warthog. Tim, you test the machine gun-"

"WOOHOO!" Tim shouted. "Thankssomuchiloveyou!"

Howard continued as if Tim's outburst hadn't happened. "-And Ed, you test the grenade launcher and the actual grenade thing."

"What if it blows up on me?" Ed complained.

"That's why I assigned it to you. Surprisingly, command thinks more highly of me and Tim."

"What?! Why does command like Tim?!"

"Something about a young blonde and some kind of sticky substance."

At this, Tim blushed. Howard and Ed ignored it.

"Great." Ed muttered. "So I'm disposable."

"If it makes you feel better Ed," Howard said as they set off to the small overlook. "Everyone here is disposable."

* * *

**Elites**

Tracer looked at his small barricade with pride.

He considered himself as something of a genius. He certainly knew he was the smartest member of the team, his small misadventures he had had over the years in his squad proving that. Still, his inventing ability surpassed everyone he knew. He only had the scraps of a crashed Banshee and a few power cores and already he had built a wall of metal and two plasma turrets.

He walked down to the small grassy area intent of telling Atar of his process. But do his dismay, Atar was deep into an argument with Utarz.

"You need to spill blood at some point in your life!" Atar roared at Utarz.

"Well, I'm sorry if assists don't count as actual kills!" Utarz shouted back.

"You didn't even get that! You got **zero kills.**"

Utarz spluttered for a bit, then snapped "Well, how many kills did you get?!"

"Thirty-five."

"Ha! That's pathetic! I knew a guy who got ninety kills!"

"Uh, sir, I came down to-" Tracer started.

"Wait for a minute Tracer." Atar growled.

"But sir, I just wanted to tell you that-"

"Trac 'Erosdee, I will talk to you later!" Atar shouted. "Just wait a moment so I can have an excuse to kill Utarz!"

Tracer flinched. He preferred Tracer as opposed to his real name. It gave him a sense of self-importance that he just couldn't understand. Atar, out of respect for him, only used his real name when he was angry.

So usually when he was talking to Utarz.

"Well?!" Atar snapped.

Tracer sighed, giving up. "Yes, sir."

Tracer walked back up to the barricade, leaving Atar and Utarz to their argument. Honestly, it amazed him how they had not been disposed of by the Prophets. After all, it was common knowledge that the 800 Squad was literally useless.

Tracer stared glumly at the other spire. He was incredibly bored right now. Now that he was actually back to living with his squad members, he started to wish that he hadn't fled the _Last Resort_.

He wished that something could happen, something that might make some kind of a difference. He didn't high hopes though. He was a practical Sangheili, and did not believe in fate, or (despite the fact that everyone was convinced) that the Forerunners were gods.

So naturally, when he heard a strangely familiar engine noise coming from the opposite side of the canyon, he was very surprised.

He looked over to Atar and Utarz. They were making so much noise that he doubted they could hear a bomb go off. He looked back to where the voice came from. Now, however, there was a human vehicle with three UNSC Marines clambering out of it.

A normal Sangheili would have charged over to the humans at this point. And if Tracer had been a normal Sangheili, this story would have ended here and there. No events would have been transpired and that would be the end of that.

Unfortunately, Tracer was a coward.

He hissed "Oh, **fuck!**" and hid behind the barricade. He looked out to the Marines.

The one with orange stripes on his armour was holding some long, thin metal object. It had the approximate length of a Beam Rifle.

Tracer could hear the orange one grumble "I still don't see why Tim can't test this thing."

The one with a white circle on his armour sighed. "Ed, you alone of this squad can handle explosives. Besides, it's just a grenade."

_That's a grenade?_ Tracer though incredulously. It looked nothing like a grenade to him. It looked more like a rifle.

Apparently the one called Ed shared this view, because he said "It looks nothing like a grenade! Grenades are round and easily thrown! This thing is so long and thin and heavy that it could punch a hole through someone!"

The one with a blue lightning bolt on his armour chuckled. "That's what she said."

Tracer was immediately reminded of Utarz.

"Shut up Tim." Ed snapped.

"Sorry. Couldn't help myself." Tim apologised, though it didn't sound very sincere.

The white one was getting annoyed now. "Ed, just throw it at that rock over there. We'll know if it works or not."

Ed sighed, then turned and threw the 'grenade' at the rock.

Nothing happened.

The white one looked at the 'grenade' curiously. "That's odd. There's enough gunpowder in there to blow a hole in-"

**BOOM**

Tracer jumped at the explosion and looked over to where Atar and Utarz were still arguing. They didn't seem to have heard anything.

"Way to jinx it, Howard." Tim smirked.

"Well, at least we know it works." Howard replied, irritated.

"Yeah." Ed was trudging up to them, his armour covered with soot. "But let's advise them on a more convenient model. I had to throw that thing like a spear."

"That would be a good approach." Howard gave him a tissue from the glove compartment. "Now test the grenade launcher."

Ed glared at him. "Why can't **you** test something?"

"I did." Howard looked at Ed smugly. "I drove the Warthog here. My testing's already done."

Ed muttered something under his breath that sounded oddly like 'arsehole'.

Howard smirked. "Now, test the grenade launcher."

Ed picked up the grenade launcher and fired it at the rock. The projectile exploded perfectly.

Tracer looked back at Atar and Utarz again. Atar appeared to be strangling Utarz and seemed intent on nothing else.

He heard the humans talking again. He turned back to the vehicle.

"...be careful." Howard was saying. "That machine gun is a prototype. It could easily malfunction and-"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah." Tim shot back. "I know how to use a gun Howard. Lay off. Let me have some fun."

Howard grumbled but obliged. Tim grinned and pulled the trigger.

A disappointing click came out of it.

Tim looked at it in confusion. He shook the gun, then tried again.

This time, it caught on fire.

Tim yelped and dropped to the ground. The three then started to stomp on it to extinguish the flames. Tracer took the chance to look back at Atar and Utarz.

Atar was now banging two grenades together while Utarz just stared at him in confusion.

Tracer turned back to the humans. They had succeeded in extinguishing the flames.

"Well, that didn't go as planned." Howard said.

"You don't say." Ed muttered.

Tim looked disappointed. "I was looking forward to shooting the machine gun." He said miserably.

"Ah well." Howard said. "Sometimes, this stuff doesn't work out. Come on, back to base."

"Uhh," Ed frowned as Howard began to walk back to base. "Why don't we take the Warthog?"

"Walking is good exercise." Howard replied. "It's important to have a good walk a least four times a day. Besides, the jeep isn't going anywhere."

Tracer stared at the humans as they walked back to base. When they were out of sight, he walked over to the Warthog.

He opened the bonnet and looked at the engine. "Primitive." He snorted.

He started thinking. The humans clearly had no idea that they were here. If they were to remain hidden, then they would have an advantage over the humans. On the other hand, they would also have an advantage over the humans if they stole the jeep, but then the humans would know that they were there.

He looked to the base, then back at the jeep. "Secrecy," he muttered, looking at the base again, then back. "Jeep. Secrecy, jeep."

He thought about it some more then sighed. "Oh, what the hell." He clambered into the vehicle and tried to figure out how to drive it.

Meanwhile, the argument between Atar and Utarz had taken a strange twist.

"That's **disgusting!**" Atar shouted. "No-one under my command skives off having a shower of all things!"

"All right, fine!" Utarz shouted back. "I'll have one every two months."

"Every day." Atar growled.

"Every day?! I'm not doing that, I'd rather have you suck my-!"

There was a loud engine sound. Then a jeep flew overhead and crashed into the rocks.

They didn't say anything for a while, then Utarz said, "I just lost my train of thought."

"Good." Atar replied. "Something tells me you didn't want to finish that sentence."


	4. Stolen Property

**Marines and Elites**

**Chapter 4: Stolen Property**

* * *

**Elites**

"So let me get this straight." Utarz said slowly. "They had this awesome vehicle that had a gun that could fire hundreds of rounds a second and had an engine that could get them to places in a matter of minutes… and they just **left it there?**"

"Yup." Tracer said. "Then I crashed."

"Wow." Utarz said, awestruck. "And here I was thinking that my squad sucked."

"I'm fine by the way." Tracer said testily. "Just in case anyone was wondering."

"Hm?" Utarz said. "Oh, yeah, whatever."

"Quiet, both of you!" Atar snapped. "Don't you realise what this means?!"

"That I have no idea how to use human equipment?" Tracer asked.

"That we aren't the only idiots out here?" Utarz commented.

"No!" Atar said, annoyed that the other two hadn't gotten the point. "It means that the humans have no idea that we're here!"

"Well," Tracer started. "That's kind of obvious, sir."

"Yeah, even I knew that Atar." Utarz commented.

Doing his best not to explode, Atar growled "General, or sir."

"Meh. Whatever." Utarz said, unconcerned.

"Anyway, I just needed to point out that fact. We might be able to exploit the humans via it."

"I think the best strategy is to simply run over them in the vehicle, sir." Tracer pointed out. "I mean, they seem as useless as us."

"That's the coward's approach, Tracer! A real Sangheili fights them in the most complicated and advanced way no matter how many there are!"

Tracer sighed. "I was afraid you'd say that sir."

"Now then," Atar had a maniac gleam in his eyes. "I have here several tactics I'd like to talk about."

"How long?" Utarz asked.

"Huh?"

"How long will the talking go on for?"

"About two or three hours if I get it all done."

A collective groan rose from Tracer and Utarz.

"Now then, this tactic is comprised of flanking the enemy and advancing at the same time…"

* * *

**Marines**

**A few moments ago**

"I still don't see why we couldn't have taken the car." Ed grumbled.

Howard knew that Ed was doing this to annoy him. He also knew that Ed would continue if he reacted. Nevertheless, he felt compelled to snarl "Exercise. How is this not clear enough for you?"

"Well, it would have been quicker to use the Warthog." Tim pointed out.

"Not you too!"

Tim shrugged. "Just saying."

Howard sighed. "I just don't want to get too attached to it. That's all"

"What's so bad with getting attached to it?" Ed asked.

"Simple. We have to give it back to command and when they take it away… well, you know."

"Well, maybe they'll let us keep it. Maybe they'll decide that-" They came to the spot where the Warthog was. "We… might… need… it."

They stared at the spot where the Warthog disappeared. For about five minutes.

"I am very disappointed right now." Howard said, breaking the silence.

"Whuh… where's the car?!" Tim said, panicking.

"I don't know!" Ed said, similarly panicking. "I would have taken it, but I've been with you guys the whole time!"

"What're we going to do?! What will command do when they come for the jeep and we don't have the jeep and, and, and, we're screwed!"

"Calm down, both of you." Howard said. "There's no need to get panicky."

"Why not?!" Ed almost shouted. "What will command do when they find out that we lost a jeep?!"

"At the worst, demotion." Howard replied.

Tim spluttered. "But, but, but you told us that command executes people who don't look after their stuff!"

"And you two believed that?" Howard said incredulously. "I only said that to make the base more organised."

"So… no executions?" Ed asked nervously.

"Honestly Ed, how did you believe that? Tim, I can understand, but you?"

Feeling like a complete idiot, Ed muttered "You sounded so serious."

"Yeah!" Said Tim, feeling relieved. "You usually know everything, so we assumed that it was true."

"You're both idiots." Howard muttered.

Trying to change the subject, Ed asked "So just to get back on topic, how are we going to get the Warthog back?"

"We investigate for any abnormal appearances or disappearances." Howard replied.

The other two stared blankly at him.

"We look around the canyon until we find it." Howard simplified.

"So we're going to be walking around the canyon all day?" Ed asked.

"Not necessarily." Howard replied. "We might find it before the end of the day."

Ed sighed. Tim said brightly, "Looking around for a jeep? How hard can it be?"

As it turned out, very hard. They looked almost everywhere. They looked under the overhang, on the plateau, near the crashed pelican (They still had no idea how it got there), even inside the base. But the Warthog was elusive as ever.

They were back on the overhang in ten minutes. "Well, so much for that idea." Tim muttered.

"Come on guys." Howard said sternly. "We haven't looked everywhere."

"Yes we have." Tim complained. "We looked in the base, near the crash site, on that plain bit, everywhere in other words!"

"Actually," Ed said. "Howard's right. We haven't looked everywhere."

"Alright, where haven't we looked?" Tim asked.

Ed pointed to the opposite base.

Tim immediately paled. "What?! No no no no no."

"Why not?" Ed asked. "It's the only place we haven't looked."

"Are you insane?!" Tim asked, visibly terrified. "Don't you remember what happened to the previous commander?!"

"Are you telling me you brought that story?" Howard asked.

"What story? You guys said that the commander was eaten by a monster that lived in the base!"

"Jesus…" Howard muttered.

"At least I didn't believe that one." Ed pointed out.

"Whuh, what do you mean?"

"Tim, remember how our previous commander was an idiot?"

"Yeah?"

"Well, he tried to swim in the ocean. In his armour."

"The monster thing was just some bullshit that we told to scare you." Howard added.

Tim stared at the two for a bit, then said, "Well, fuck you guys."

* * *

**Elites**

To Tracer's credit, he was trying to listen to Atar.

He really was.

But when Atar got started on his strategies, his voice became like a vacuum cleaner drone. Only snippets of information got through.

"…flanking… explosives… car… Utarz dead… potato…"

Tracer was trying to look as though he was interested, and for his part, he was mostly succeeding.

Utarz, on the other hand, wasn't even trying to conceal his boredom.

"It's so **boring**." He groaned.

"I know." Tracer said. He didn't bother trying to lower his voice, as Atar was too deeply involved in his speech to listen to the two of them. "But let's not tell him that, it'll just make him angry and give us a speech on the importance of listening."

Utarz moaned. "What did I do to deserve this?"

"You mean apart from stupidity and insubordination?" Tracer snarked.

Letting his attention wonder elsewhere, Utarz looked around him. He never appreciated the beauty of the ocean before. _I should remember to have a swim in it one day_. He thought. He looked at the base. _It is very tall, did the Forerunners build it? It sure looks like it. _He looked at the grassy area.

Three humans were coming over to them.

"OH SHIT!" He shouted, jumping.

Annoyed, Atar snapped, "Utarz! You interrupted me in the middle of a Delta Four-Thirty manoeuver!"

"Fuck that! The humans are coming!"

"The humans?! Shit!" Tracer panicked.

"Relax, the both of you." Atar said, visibly confident. "Where are they coming from?"

"Uhhhhh, the north!" Utarz said.

"Excellent!"

"Excellent?!" Utarz and Tracer shouted at the same time.

"Yes!" Atar seemed pleased. "All we need to do is execute the High Noon manoeuver I mentioned!"

The other two stared blankly at him.

"You two weren't listening to a word I was saying, weren't you?"

Utarz and Tracer looked at each other. "Uh, no, I can't say we did." Utarz said nervously.

"Sorry sir. But your voice does make it hard to concentrate." Tracer said apologetically.

Atar sighed. "Alright. Let's go hide somewhere."

"Alright!" Utarz said eagerly. "Now that is a plan I can follow!"


	5. Introductions

**Marines and Elites**

**Chapter 5: Introductions**

* * *

**Marines**

The Marines were reluctant to go to the other base. The previous owners had planted several booby traps inside to ensure that no intruders would get in and the owners after them had created some sort of giant room that was used for planning attacks. The room in question was underground and structurally questionable, and could cause the whole base to collapse at any moment.

That, plus the fact that an odd exploding noise had come from there recently did nothing to improve their resolve.

"Uh, how long will this take?" Tim asked nervously, forgetting that he had asked this question about five times before.

Seriously annoyed by now, Howard snapped "If you say that one more time, I swear I will shove this rifle up your arse!"

"Hey, I'm scared, okay?!" Tim said, close to panicking. "What if some monster comes out and attacks us?!"

"I thought that we all agreed that the monster stuff was bullshit?" Ed asked, almost as annoyed as Howard.

"I still had the nightmares." Tim muttered.

"Hoo boy." Ed muttered.

"Look, the only thing we really have to worry about is the booby traps." Howard said. "That's all."

"What about that war room thing?" Ed asked, having concerns about the room."

"The base has been up for almost two years." replied Howard. "It will last for a further ten minutes."

"I'm still scared."

"Shut up Tim." Ed snapped. "You've been going on about your fear ever since we left the base."

"For good reason."

"Maybe, but it's still really annoying!"

"Hey, you guys can't pretend that you're not nervous as well!"

"Nervous, yes. Terrified, no." Howard pointed out.

"Yeah, well…" Tim muttered, losing his argument.

"Look, there won't be any monsters, much less any danger. The booby traps are kind of obvious." Howard said."

"Yeah, I guess." Tim sighed.

* * *

**Elites**

"Did he seriously just say that?" Utarz said, incredulous.

The three Sangheili were listening to the humans talking, like they didn't care about their own personal safety. From their hiding place, the conversation sounded rather humorous.

"When you think about it, it is kind of ironic." Tracer said.

"They mentioned a war room." Atar mused. "Maybe it has a radio."

"Why do we need a radio?" Utarz asked.

"To contact command, of course! We need command to know what happened to us so that they can pick us up!"

"Atar, think about it." Utarz replied. "Why would command save us?"

Deciding to ignore Utarz's question, Atar instead growled "General, or sir."

"I think they're inside the base now, sir." Tracer pointed out.

They listened to the humans talking. Atar turned to them. "Tracer, you said that you overheard the humans name themselves. Can you identify them?"

Tracer peaked out from the small room. The humans were standing in the middle of the room, searching for something. Tracer pointed to the orange one. "That one there is called Ed. He appears to be the second in command. Or at least the middle one in terms of rank."

"I bet that he's like you, Tracer." Utarz said.

"No. The white one appears to be the smartest, from what I've seen. His name is Howard. He appears to be the leader of their squad."

"What rank?" Atar asked.

"He didn't say, although by the insignia on his armour he appears to be a general."

Atar growled. "He looks soft. Not like a proper leader."

"That's humans for you." Utarz said. Then he realised something. "Wait, how did you know what the insignia meant Tracer?"

"I make it a point to know everything about our enemies." Tracer replied. "Anyway, the blue one is called Tim and appears to be the one of lowest rank in the squad. He's also appears to be the dumbest one of the group."

"Sounds like someone Utarz could get along well with." Atar said.

Utarz spluttered for a second, and then snapped "Hey, there's no proof that he's stupid! He might be the genius of the group!"

Tracer pointed to the human in question, who was looking in a toaster.

Howard noticed this. "Uh, Tim? Why are you looking in a toaster for a jeep?"

Tim looked up. "Duh! Something might have used a shrinking ray on it! Or it could have gotten washed and shrunk."

Howard stared at Tim, then looked at Ed. He shrugged, and continued looking through a door.

Tracer looked back at Utarz.

"Oh." Utarz said. "Ummm…"

"Definitely someone Utarz could relate to." Atar muttered.

This seemed to re-engage Utarz's ego. "I am **not** an idiot!" He hissed.

Ignoring him, Atar turned his attention back to the humans. "They seem as big a group of idiots as you said Tracer. They're sloppy, idiotic, and uncoordinated." Atar thought about it for a bit. "Should be an even match."

"What do you mean 'even match'?" Utarz asked.

"For the inevitable attack we perform on them!"

"Attack?! But we can't even shoot a gun!"

"I can!" Tracer said indignantly.

"In five hours, yes!" Utarz retorted.

"It's important to be precise!"

"Sangheili always attack the enemy!" Atar growled. "Only a dishonourable Sangheili would do otherwise!"

"You realise that you're saying this to me, right?" Utarz asked.

Atar stared at him for a bit before saying "Good point."

Then Howard started to talk. "Alright, it's quite obvious that the jeep isn't in here, so me and Ed are going to search outside."

"What about me?" Tim asked.

"Maybe you can call command and tell them what happened." Ed suggested.

"No." Howard said firmly. "If we tell them that we lost a valuable piece of equipment, then my cousin would make it sound like we lost something much worse."

"Would he actually do that?" Ed asked.

"Yes. He is that much of an arsehole." Howard replied flatly. "I should know, I lived with him for nineteen years."

"Alright then. Tim, stay in here and don't touch anything." Ed said.

"What?! But, but, but…" Tim spluttered.

Howard sighed in exasperation. "Tim, there are no monsters hiding in the dark, now just stay here."

Utarz chuckled at the irony of that statement.

Howard and Ed left the base, leaving Tim alone in there.

"Come on." Atar hissed. "He's just one human."

"Do our guns even work?" Utarz asked.

"Well, no sense trying to act brave and all." Tim muttered. "Not without alcohol anyway."

Utarz looked at the human. "You know what guys? I think I would like this guy after all."

Tracer rolled his eyes. Atar growled.

Tim seemed to brighten. "Hey I think I know where the alcohol is! I mean, this base is similar to ours after all!"

And then Tim turned to the hiding spot.

The Elites scurried back in the cupboard, trying to squish in, knowing that it will do no good. Tim walked towards the cupboard and opened it, seeing the three Sangheili wedged inside it.

They stared at each other for a moment. Then Utarz chose that moment to say something.

"Hello."

Tim screamed at the top of his voice, then ran out of the base, completely forgetting about his gun.

The Elites walked out of the cupboard. "Coward." Atar commented.

"Would have been easy to kill." Utarz said dryly.

"I don't suppose that there's any way to postpone a battle now." Tracer sighed. "Should we get this over with sir?"

"Yes," Atar said gleefully. "Let's go kill some humans."

* * *

**Marines**

**A minute ago**

Ed and Howard walked out of the base. "Bet you forty credits that he doesn't last five minutes in there." Ed grinned.

"I bet he would last for a bit longer than five minutes." Howard mused. "All things considered."

"Hey, there's the jeep!" Ed cried.

Sure enough, the Warthog was sitting there in the grass.

"Finally!" Howard exclaimed. "It's taken us all afternoon to find it!"

"How did it get here though?" Ed frowned. "A jeep doesn't just drive off by itself."

"Indeed." Howard was also frowning. "The only explanation that I can think of is that there are other people in this canyon."

"How? We would know if there were other people. Command would have told us."

"Not unless they didn't know either." Howard said darkly.

"GUUUUYYYYSSSS!"

Howard and Ed looked in the direction of the voice to see Tim running towards them screaming "MONSTERS! IN THE BASE!"

"Oh God…" Howard muttered under his breath.

"Is he serious?" Ed asked, exasperated.

"Guys!" Tim was panting and clearly terrified. "Monsters! I opened a cupboard and there were monsters and one said hello to me!"

Deciding to humour him, Ed said in a patronising voice, "Ah yes, the monsters. We forgot about those, didn't we Howard?"

Catching on, Howard said in the same tone of voice, "Yes, yes we did. What did the monsters look like Tim?"

"They had four jaw-like things on their mouth and they were wearing armour and holding these purple things that looked like weapons and I'm too handsome to die!" Tim replied, panicking.

"Oh, I know what kind of monsters those are. Those are called 'imagination monsters'." Ed smirked.

Tim glared at him. "Fuck you."

"Hold on, hold on." Howard broke in, looking a bit alarmed now. "Tim just accurately described a Covenant Elite!"

"He did?" Ed said, looking puzzled.

"I did?!" Tim cried, looking downright petrified.

"Yes!" Howard looked concerned. "I saw pictures of Elites in basic training! That description was exactly like it!"

"Seems legit." A blue armoured Sangheili said.

"Yes, but that wouldn't make sense, Elites can't be-" Howard froze as he realized who said that.

"'Sup." The alien said.

The Marines jumped back in fright, Ed pulling out his gun. He shouted "Stay right where you are!"

A bolt of plasma from his left shot the gun out of his hand.

"Fuck." Muttered Ed.

Two more Elites charged out of the base, roaring at the humans, who ran towards the beach in fright.

"Death to the humans!" Atar roared.

"I told you guys!" Tim shouted.

"The Prophets ordered your destruction!" Tracer cried.

"OH SHIT!" Howard screamed.

"I can't shoot this thing properly!" Utarz shouted.

"I didn't sign up for this!" Ed shouted angrily.

* * *

**Author's Notes**

**Now, I noticed that the reviewers noticed that this Fanfic is very similar to Red vs Blue. That show was my biggest inspiration for this fic. I'm not going to downright copy it though.**

**In other news, I'm going to try and update this every week. **

**Thanks for watching.**


	6. Major Firefight

**Marines and Elites**

**Chapter 6: Major Firefight**

* * *

**Elites**

**Five minutes after Chapter 5**

Utarz fired another five rounds into the rock that the humans were hiding behind. Then another. And another. Then he shouted "Come on out humans! We promise to make your death as painless as possible!"

"Actually," Tracer interjected. "Plasma burns are particularly painful, so the human's deaths will be very painful."

"Yeah, we'll stay here." Came a voice from behind the rock.

Utarz glared at Tracer. "Tracer, that was a gamble to get them out from behind the rock."

"Oh."

"Get out from there you filthy humans!" Atar roared. "Stop acting like cowards and die like the dogs you are! Your deaths will be the most painful experience you have ever had!"

There was a pause from behind the rock. Then one of them said "Ok, now we're definitely not coming out!"

Atar snarled while Tracer facepalmed.

"Way to go Atar." Utarz snarked.

Atar spun around and gave Utarz the Death Glare. "General or sir." He said in a tone that clearly wished Utarz a torturous death.

Utarz flinched. He focused back on the rock.

"You know sir, you'd think this battle would be over by now." Tracer commented. "Considering all the rounds we've fired at them anyway."

"In that case Tracer, I am particually disappointed in you." Atar replied.

"Me?!" Tracer asked, shocked.

"Yes! You didn't fire a single round!"

"Sir, in my defence, one has to be precise if they want to shoot something." Tracer said, slightly annoyed.

Atar sighed. There was no point in trying to convince Tracer otherwise. Instead, he said "At least try to take a shorter amount of time to shoot next time."

"I'll do my best sir, but I usually take the reasonable time."

"Your 'reasonable time' is **two hours.**"

Utarz fired another few rounds at the rock. "Ok, I give up. They aren't coming out."

"That's what we said!" Came another voice from behind the rock.

"Shut up, arsehole!" Utarz shouted back.

_This is ridiculous._ Atar thought irritably. _This battle should have took thirty seconds. Instead, it's taken five whole minutes. This has to end._

"Ok, men. Advance!" Atar commanded.

"Advance?" Came both Tracer's and Utarz's voices.

"Yes! We aren't going to accomplish anything by standing here! It makes much more sense to just go up there and kill them with our bare hands!"

Tracer was torn between agreeing with Atar and going the coward's way. "Uh, sir? Wouldn't it be more effective if we just chuck a plasma grenade over there?"

"Negative."

"You sure? I could just chuck one over there. We're at the perfect angle."

Utarz chuckled. "That's what she said."

Tracer just looked at him. "Hilarious, Utarz. Just fucking hilarious."

"Tracer, a real Sangheili goes in to fight in a suicidal manner." Atar replied. "Only cowards throw grenades."

"You throw grenades sir." Tracer pointed out.

Atar was struck dumb for a moment. "Good point. But I still want the satisfaction of snapping their necks! It would be the best way to add another count to my kill target."

As soon as the last part left his mouth, he regretted saying it.

"Huh?" Utarz asked. "I thought that was only for when the ship was crashing?"

Atar spluttered for a bit. "I… uh… that's… I was… um…"

"Are you okay sir?" Tracer asked.

"Well… when I said I had a target of fifty kills, I meant, fifty lifetime kills." Atar mumbled the last bit.

There was a silence for a few seconds. Then Tracer spoke up. "Lifetime kills?!"

Utarz burst out laughing.

"Yes…" Atar muttered, feeling humiliated. "My low kill count is the main reason why I'm in the eight-hundred squad."

Tracer was confused. "But sir, you always tell us about how you sunk a human starship by yourself."

"Where do you think I got most of my kills? I was just credited with sinking the ship."

"Didn't that count?" Tracer asked.

"Ships aren't people Tracer." Utarz pointed out, still chortling.

"No, I mean the humans on board the ship." Tracer replied.

Still muttering, Atar said "No Tracer. The rest of the boarding crew had killed every other human on board. The ship sunk empty."

Utarz sighed, looking at Atar. "You know, this kind of makes you a hypocrite now, Atar."

The last word seemed to flare Atar's old self again. "General, or SIR!" He shouted. "Just because you've discovered an embarrassing fact of mine doesn't mean you can just abandon respect!"

Tracer frowned. "Hey, guys? A human's watching us."

* * *

**Marines**

Tim yelped, hiding back behind the rock as the blue Elite fired another plasma round at him. Looking at the other members of his squad, he asked, "Why did I have to do this again?"

"Because we said so." replied Howard. "Now what did you find out?"

"From what I can tell, the blue one's called Utarz, the reddish one's called Atar and the purple one's called Tracer." Tim answered.

"What the hell sort of name is Tracer?" Ed asked.

"Dunno. Maybe it's some sort of Elite thing."

"Maybe." Ed looked over the rock to the Elites. "They don't sound like the fearsome warriors command told us they were, though."

"They're probably rejects, like us. Otherwise, they would have killed us by now." Howard mused.

"Wait, we're rejects?" Tim asked.

"Are you surprised?" Ed replied.

Tim thought about it. "No, not really. Kinda explains a lot, actually."

Howard frowned. "I still can't believe that there are Elites here. How did they get here anyway?"

"Let's find out." Tim said. Then, before anyone could stop him, he stood up and called to the Elites, "Hey Elites, how did you get here?"

"We crashed our Banshee." replied a voice from over the rock.

"Utarz!" Snapped another voice.

"Wait, one Banshee?" Tim asked, confused. "How did you all fit?"

"We didn't. We had to squish in." said the first voice.

"How did you-? Gah!" Tim ducked down again to avoid more plasma bolts.

Howard sighed. "Well, that explains the odd explosion. And the purple bits of metal."

Ed frowned. "So now what? None of us have proper battle experience. We may as well just wave a white flag."

"That's true." Howard frowned. "These Elites look like they've had at least some combat experience. We only know how to shoot guns at targets."

"So, we're fucked?" Ed asked.

"Pretty much."

Tim blinked, and then brightened. "Hey guys, I have an idea!"

The other two didn't react to this, which annoyed Tim. "I said, I have an idea!"

"We heard you Tim, we were just ignoring you." Ed shot back.

"How come?"

"Well, since when were your ideas actually good?" Howard asked.

"This one's good. All we have to do is distract the Elites and get the jeep!" Tim insisted.

Ed and Howard looked at each other then back at Tim. "Explain." They chorused.

* * *

**Elites**

"Helping the enemy is nothing short of dishonourable!" Atar shouted. "You have to kill the enemy, not assist them!"

"That isn't saying much, considering how many kills you've got." Utarz shot back.

Atar growled. "My kill count is not of concern at the moment. Your insubordination is."

Utarz just chuckled. "Oh yes it is. You, Atar, are bit of a hypocrite now."

"General, or sir." Atar turned to Tracer. "Tracer, just throw a grenade at the humans, this has gone on for too-"

A rock flew out from Utarz's direction and hit Atar on the back of the head.

Atar slowly turned around, glaring at Utarz, who looked terrified now.

Utarz backed away. "I swear to the Prophets, that wasn't me."

Atar advanced on Utarz, murder in his eyes. "Utarz… I've always wanted to do this to you…"

Backing away a little faster, Utarz replied. "That wasn't me! I swear it wasn't! It- it- it was- OH SHIT!"

Breaking into a full blown run, Utarz retreated in the direction of the lake while Atar chased after him, shouting threats at him. Tracer just stared after them, not noticing three humans sneak towards the Warthog.

Tracer sighed, wondering how he got paired up with such idiots. Then he turned back to the rock, calling "Hey, uh, humans? Just stay there while I fetch my companions, ok?"

There wasn't a response, so Tracer assumed that they had agreed. But he wanted to make sure first.

"I kinda want an answer to that question please." Tracer insisted.

There was still no response, which annoyed Tracer. "Hey, just because we're your enemies doesn't mean that you have to be rude! Just give me an answer already!"

An odd engine noise started up behind Tracer. He froze, then slowly turned around…

…Just in time to see a greenish car front rush up towards him.

"Oh, fu-" He started, but the Warthog slammed into him, cutting his cursing short.

Meanwhile, Atar had caught up with Utarz and had started strangling him.

"Finally, I get a reason to kill you Utarz. You know how long I've wanted to do this for?"

Utarz chocked, but he managed to say "You are the **worst general ever.**"

"Oh am I? We'll see soon, how bad I am, when I-"

A green car zoomed past them, with one of the three occupants shouting "Faster Howard, faster!"

"Be quiet, Tim!" the driver replied.

Atar and Utarz forgot about their argument and just stared after the vehicle, trying to process what just happened.

Finally, Atar managed to say "Oops."

Tracer walked up to them, clutching his stomach. "Hey, sir?" He asked. "Remind me why we thought joining the army was a good idea."

* * *

**Alright, so a few people have noticed that the chapter length is rather short compared to other fanfics. I do have a solution for that. Every ten chapters or so, I'm going to add a new character or two. My chapter aim is about… let's say, forty. Forty chapters. So by the end of this story I'm hoping that both teams will have around five or six members. I actually have plans for the new characters.**

**Thanks for watching.**


	7. Phone Home

**Marines and Elites**

**Chapter 7: Phone Home**

* * *

**Marines**

**Eight hours after Chapter 6**

The sunset was a dark orange, starting to dissipate against the dark night sky. An ordinary person would have been watching the sunset but unfortunately for the soldiers of the canyon, they weren't exactly ordinary people.

Ed carried the coffee to Howard's office; apparently he needed some after the confrontation. To Ed, this was odd, as he and Tim both needed a glass of strong alcohol afterwards. Perhaps Howard was just different like that.

Ed opened the door. "Here's your coffee, Howard." He said, placing the coffee on the table.

"Thank you." Howard took the coffee, taking a sip. Needed more sugar, but he wasn't complaining. He had other things on his mind. "I still can't believe that there are **Elites** here." He muttered.

"They don't seem too tough." Ed pointed out. "If anything, they're like Covenant sim troopers."

"True. But it can't be denied that they have more combat experience than us." Howard replied. "They could easily injure one of us. Horribly too."

"And you care?" Ed joked.

Howard looked at him. "Ed, I've been friends with you guys for my entire life. Hell, our families have been close since the twenty-first century. Of course I care."

Ed chuckled. "I know, I know. But what can I do? I live to annoy and insult you."

"In all seriousness, though, what would we be able to do if that happens?"

"Nothing." Ed replied simply. "We don't know how to do stitches. We don't know how to treat burns. We don't have any medicine either."

"Unless you count that stuff that Tim brought when we first came here…" Howard sighed,

**FLASHBACK**

"_This is our base?!" Ed complained as he looked over the place. "It's just two spires in the middle of a box canyon!"_

"_Ed, stop complaining." Howard snapped. "Do something useful and go check out the base. The __**inside**__, Ed." He added when Ed just looked up and down the tower._

"_Oh, fine." Ed muttered irritably. He walked inside the base, saying things under his breath._

"_Tim, help me unpack." Howard requested. The blue soldier was tottering around, for some reason blissfully unaware of his surroundings. So Howard had say it louder. "TIM!"_

_Tim jumped and looked at Howard. Then, realising what Howard had asked, went over and starting pulling stuff out of the crate._

_Howard started to do the same, muttering things under his breath. Then he noticed a small object in the bottom of the crate._

_A bottle full of pills._

_Howard frowned as he picked up the small bottle in the crate. "Tim, what are these?"_

"_Oh, those?" Tim said brightly as he pulled out an assault rifle. "That's just my heart medication."_

_Howard stared at him. "…You don't need heart medication."_

"_Yeah, but they taste nice. And they're strangely addictive." Tim proclaimed happily. "Well, gotta go annoy Ed. See ya!"_

_Howard watched him go. Then he walked over to the stream and poured the contents into the water._

**END OF FLASHBACK**

"You still remember that?" Ed asked. "That was over seven months ago."

Howard shrugged. "I seem to have a photographic memory. It's very useful."

Ed thought about it. "Huh. Anyway, if you want my advice, you should ask command for a medic. God knows we could use one."

"Yeah. Remember that time when Tim tried to bandage a paper cut with toast?"

Ed groaned. "Yes. Sometimes, I wonder about him."

"Hey Ed!" Tim's voice came from the living room. "Can you help me find the remote?"

Ed rolled his eyes. "Like he isn't holding it. Well, guess I'll see you tomorrow."

"Yup." Howard took another sip of his coffee. Ed exited the office, deciding that he might be better off telling Tim that the TV hasn't worked for years.

Howard thought about what Ed had said. It was true that none of them had any medical experience whatsoever. The worst they had ever gotten were a few paper cuts. But with Elites here, it was all too likely that they could be injured badly.

Howard sighed, walking over to the screen. He turned it on, the screen switching to the UNSC logo. He typed up a few things and waited. Then he said to the screen "This is General Howard Einstein, of the UNSC Equipment Testers. Over."

"Loud and clear, Einstein." came an obnoxious and smirking voice. "Loud and clear."

Howard groaned bitterly. "Why is it always **you?**"

A smirking, unshaven face appeared on the screen. "Probably because I like you best, cuz."

"Hello Mac." Howard muttered. "I need ask you a favour."

Mac raised an eyebrow. "A favour? From me? You feeling alright?"

"I need a medical officer." Howard replied. "One who can actually do his job. Not just some guy who says he's a medic and doesn't even know how to deliver medicine."

"Before I do anything, let me ask you something." Mac leaned forward in his chair. "Why do you need a medic? You've been fine for the last few years."

"We have a new development." Howard already knew how Mac would react to this. "A trio of Covenant Elites have landed at the opposite end of the canyon."

Mac snorted. "Elites? Yeah, right."

"Somehow, I knew you'd say that." Howard grumbled.

"You were always the one who wanted the attention, weren't you Howard?" Mac sneered. "You always lied to get your way, to get your attention, to get noticed. Well I won't let you be that arrogant."

Howard really didn't need this. He really didn't. He would do anything just to talk to someone else at command just for once. But unfortunately, Mac was his only option.

"Mac," Howard said sternly. "The incident was twenty-one years ago. Time to let it go."

Not even listening to him, Mac said "Tell you what; if you get proof that there are Elites at the other side of the canyon, then I'll send you a medic. But in the meantime-"

Howard interrupted him by typing on the computer, putting up an image of the three Elites shooting at them while they were behind the rock. He let the image stay there for ten seconds, so Mac could have time to see if it was legit, then he put it down.

Mac had a dumbstruck look on his face, Howard knowing that two conflicting emotions were going to war in his head. Sending a medic will be doing what Howard wanted, something that Mac had been fighting against for his entire life. On the other hand, he had taken a long time to get to his post and not sending backup would be a sentence to his own demotion.

Mac sighed. "I'll see what I can do." He mumbled.

"Excellent!" Howard said brightly. "I hope we don't see each other again. Good day!"

And with that, he turned off the monitor.

* * *

**Elites**

"…Obviously the Marines will be expecting us to attack with a frontal assault, seeing as their base is at the opposite side of the canyon. So we can't do that, as they will most likely be prepared for it. We'll have to sneak around behind their base so as to…"

Tracer just let Atar drone on. There was no point stopping him. Once he got started, he was impossible to stop.

Utarz was doing his best to ignore it and was succeeding for the most part. Every now and then he caught a snippet of what seemed to be a plan that resulted in his death.

"…And that's the plan! What do you think?" Atar concluded.

Utarz's head snapped up, suddenly paying attention. Tracer just said "Hm? Oh, yes sir!"

Despite what Utarz frequently said about him, Atar wasn't an idiot. Deciding that he would be better off giving them a simplified version of the plan, he growled "We sneak around the back and then Utarz blows up the base."

At this, Utarz sat up straight, suddenly alarmed. "Hold on, hold on, what? Why do I have to use the explosives?"

"Well, you don't know anything about explosives, so you're likely to kill yourself in the process."

Even Utarz could see the flaw in this. "Uh, Atar?"

"General, or sir."

"Whatever. Since I don't know anything about explosives, what are the chances that I'll actually succeed in blowing up the base?"

This seemed to convince Atar. He stood still for a moment, trying to figure out a way around this. Then he turned to Tracer. "Do you know how to use explosives?"

"Yes sir!" Tracer lied.

Atar looked at him.

"…No sir."

"Besides, we don't have any explosives." Utarz pointed out.

Atar growled. "Tracer, do you know how to make explosives?"

"No sir. And even if I did, I don't think we have the right materials."

Atar stood silently, thinking. If they didn't have the materials or the personnel necessary for explosives, then they needed to get them. And the only way to get them was to…

…Call Brutus.

Atar sighed. "Tracer, did you manage to reroute the radio?"

Caught off guard by this question, Tracer said "Um… yes sir?"

"Good. You two go to bed. There are still some beds in the side rooms."

"But I'm not tired!" Utarz complained.

"Here's a deal. Go to bed now, and I'll give you chocolate like a good little boy." Atar replied sarcastically, basically telling Utarz what he was being reminded of right now.

Utarz spluttered. Atar just left to use the radio.

Atar never called Brutus unless they absolutely needed to. There was a good reason for this: Brutus was a Brute, a creature in the Covenant that the Sangheili had a personal grudge against. In their opinions, the Brutes were just that, brutes. They were animals that deserved neither pity nor respect.

Atar turned on the comm link. IT was bad enough that he had to talk to a Brute, it was made even worse by Brutus' attitude. It was hard enough to talk to him, even harder to get stuff from him.

Brutus' face appeared on the screen. "This is Brutus, reporter to the- Oh. It's **you.**"

"Spare me, Brutus." Atar snapped. "I didn't call you to get scorn and annoyance."

Brutus just grunted. "So what do you want? We don't have much to spare, what with everything going on."

Atar was curious. "Like what?"

"We've managed to pinpoint the location of a sacred artefact."

Now Atar was excited. "A holy ring?"

"No. We're not sure what it is, to be honest. But don't bother trying to learn about it. You won't be going. Now what do you need?"

Atar glared at him. "We need a demolitions expert, or at least a demolitions user. We'll send you the coordinates so that you can send him. We also need explosives."

"Dare I ask why?"

"In the canyon we're in, we've got three humans that are… similar to my squad."

Brutus understood that statement. "You're in luck. We've actually got someone for you. He goes by the name of Repora."

"Good. Send him. And don't forget the actual explosives."

Brutus chuckled. "If I were you, I'd let those humans have a fight. After all, you'll be there for a long time."

Atar sighed. "You're not going to rescue us when we're done here, aren't you?"

"Atar, if we did, then we would have a bunch of idiots on a spacecraft with no-where to go. And that crowds up space. It's much simpler if we just send them somewhere remote."

That did make sense. But it didn't make Atar any more pleased about it.

"Whatever." Atar growled. "Just send us the material. We need it urgently."

"Very well." Brutus replied. "He'll be there in two days."

"Two days?!" Atar shouted, outraged. "Why don't you just send him now, we can-"

Atar was cut off by Brutus ending the comm link.

* * *

**Right, so I'm thinking about starting a tumblr account for the Marines and Elites so that you can ask them questions. It depends on how popular this fanfic gets and if you guys want me to. I mean, I sure as hell do.**

**Thanks for watching.**

**Potato.**


	8. Building and Rebuilding

**Marines and Elites**

**Chapter 8: Building and Rebuilding**

* * *

**Elites**

**Ten hours after Chapter 7**

Utarz was what one could call a pervert. Or a ladies man. Or a combination of both. In any case, right now he was having an… interesting wet dream and he was quite eager to finish it.

Of course, he knew that wouldn't happen.

A light flicked on in his room, followed by a loud "Get up, numbnuts!", followed by a blow to the head.

The dream imploded, Utarz grabbing his head in pain. His eyes shot open, and he glared at his awakener.

"Would it kill you to give me an alarm clock Atar?" He groused.

"General, or sir!" Atar snapped.

"Gimme an answer."

"Utarz, get your arse out of bed and move it to the kitchen!"

"Fine." Utarz muttered, seriously annoyed about his dream being interrupted. He walked into the kitchen, where Tracer was sitting down, drinking some coffee and looking at what seemed to be a picture.

"We have coffee?" Utarz asked, puzzled.

Tracer chuckled. "This place has everything. I can imagine why you're surprised though. It's a miracle that none of this went off."

"Huh." Utarz went over to the table. He grabbed some cereal and milk and went to the picture. "What's this?"

"It's a blueprint." Tracer replied. "For a Wraith."

Utarz chuckled. "A blueprint for a Wraith? You planning on building your own vehicles now, huh?"

"Yes."

Utarz blinked. Building weapons out of scraps of a Banshee was one thing. But a tank, a goddamn **tank** was another.

"Uhhhh, how exactly are you going to build a tank out of a Banshee corpse?"

Tracer looked at him. "It won't just be from those parts. There are a lot of spare parts in the basement that the previous owners used. I'm going to be using those as well."

"Oh. Well that makes sense."

"Wait." Atar had come into the room. "You'll be using human technology to build a Covenant vehicle?!"

"One should always take what one can get." Tracer replied. "Besides, I don't have much choice in that matter. I can't make a Wraith out of burnt scraps."

Atar growled but he let the matter rest. He sat down, opening a can of military rations.

"Seriously?" Utarz said in disbelief.

"Utarz, I don't know about you, but I was born a soldier." Atar responded. "I've been living on this stuff for my entire life. Eating it now is no different."

"Gods above." Utarz muttered. "That's probably why you're always so crabby."

Atar gave Utarz an irritated glare, then went back to his 'food', muttering to himself.

They ate their meals in silence. Atar was busy working out attack strategies in his head and how to actually make the other two listen to him. Utarz was bored and letting his mind wander elsewhere, inventing jokes and insults. Tracer was studying the blueprint, trying to work out how to improve it.

But all of them where thinking about the humans in some way or another.

* * *

**Marines**

"…I mean obviously they won't think about attacking us again, I mean with our awesome skills and all." Tim was bragging.

"Tim, we hid behind a rock." Ed pointed out. "We didn't fire a single round."

"I did!" Tim replied indignantly.

"Shooting rounds into the air when we get back to base doesn't count." Howard said.

The Marines were having breakfast, discussing the previous events that happened yesterday. It had evolved into Tim bragging about their 'skills', a view that the other two didn't share.

"Says who?" Tim replied angrily.

"Says me. Deal with it." Howard responded.

Tim growled and poked moodily at his pancake. Ed chose this moment to speak up.

"Seriously though, what are we going to do with these aliens?" He questioned.

Howard sighed. "We'll probably kill ourselves by going into a direct fight, so we should just monitor them for now."

The other two stared at him. "How, are we going to monitor them?"

Howard smirked. "We'll hide somewhere, and listen in on their conversations."

Tim stared at him for a while. Then he burst into laughter.

Howard raised an eyebrow as he watched Tim thump the table in laughter.

"Hahahaha… good one Howard, good one!" Tim managed to choke out. "Very funny, suggesting that we'll watch the Elites closely with our eyes and we'll just crouch under a rock while they chat among themselves. HAHAHA!"

Howard leaned back in his chair, smiling at this. Ed just facepalmed.

Tim chuckled. "But seriously though, how are we going to monitor them?"

**Fifteen minutes later**

"I hate you guys so much." Tim muttered under his breath.

"We heard you the first time Tim." Ed replied.

By now, the Marines were hiding behind a hill opposite to where the one called Tracer was tinkering with some mass of metal. They weren't too sure what he was making but it seemed to be something large.

"What is he making?" Howard wondered. "Some sort of weapon, maybe?"

"What kind of weapon is that large?" Ed asked.

"AA guns. Those things are huge." Tim said.

"Guess we'll just have to see for ourselves." Howard said.

They crept out of the shadows to look at the heap of metal. It was just a bunch of metal rods, bars and some other shapes now, but they got the idea that Tracer was going to turn it into something better.

Utarz came up to him. "Yo, Tracer."

"Hm?" Tracer looked up at Utarz. "Oh, hey."

Utarz looked at the metal. "So you're going to turn this thing into a Wraith, huh?"

Howard's eyes widened.

"What's a Wraith?" Tim asked, puzzled.

"It's a Covenant tank. It's so hard to destroy without mass firepower that it's almost impossible."

"Wonderful." Ed muttered darkly. "As if we didn't have enough problems."

The Elites appeared to be arguing with each other now. "It **is** possible." Tracer insisted. "I just need to be alone for a bit to do it."

"Can you do it without being alone?" Utarz asked.

"Yes, but not when the present company is shooting wisecracks at me." Tracer pointed out.

One had the impression that Utarz would be grinning if it were physically possible for him. "Well then, I'll be quiet but I'll stand right here."

Tracer gave him an irritable look. "**Why?**"

"To bet that you can't do it." Utarz replied mischievously. "Fifty credits."

"…" Tracer stared at Utarz for a bit. "…Seriously?" he asked incredulously. "You're on!"

"Good!" Utarz cackled. "Prepare to lose some cash!"

**Two hours later**

"Damn." Utarz muttered.

"Word of advice:" Tracer stated. "Never bet against my inventing and improvising skills ever again. Now give me fifty credits."

Utarz grumbled as he pulled out a small device. Howard turned back to his own soldiers, who had disbelieving looks on their faces.

"How did he do that?" Tim asked, amazed.

"I've never seen anyone build something that complicated…" Ed said softly.

"Focus." Howard snapped, bringing their attention back to him. "Don't you two realize what this means?"

Tim frowned. "It means that they have a tank and we have a jeep. Wait, that's not fair!"

"Exactly." Howard said. "We can't let them have a tank of all things. They'll destroy us in mere seconds."

Ed watched Utarz walk away. "Well, I did bring the grenade launcher…"

"Excellent!" Howard proclaimed. "The grenade launcher worked perfectly during the testing so it'll be perfect! Open fire!"

"Wait!" Tim said. "Will it blow it up? I mean, that thing does look pretty strong."

"Aim for the weak spot."

"Which is?" Ed asked.

"It's back. The motor is there so firing a grenade there will-"

"Ok, I get it." Ed interrupted. He took aim with the grenade launcher, frowning and making calculations. Then he fired.

* * *

**Elites**

Tracer wished he could smile as he looked at the Wraith. It was looking like his best creation so far. He was just getting ready to press the button to activate it when he noticed the humans.

And recognised the grenade launcher.

He watched as Ed fired the launcher and before he could say or do anything, the grenade hit the engine and exploded.

The Wraith came apart in a massive ball of purple fire. Parts flew everywhere and crashed, Tracer's greatest work destroyed in a flash.

"**WHAT THE FUCK?!**"

Tracer's yell could be heard from the Elite's base. They stared in the direction of the fire and the yell.

"Do I really want to know?" Atar muttered at large.

"Probably not." Utarz responded, too pissed about the bet to feel sympathetic for Tracer at the moment.


	9. Around the Campfire

**Marines and Elites**

**Chapter 9: Around the Campfire**

**Twelve hours after Chapter 8**

* * *

**Elites**

By this time, the moon had long appeared over the horizon and was bathing the valley in moonlight. That said, it wasn't much moonlight since it was a crescent moon, but it was still enough to see what was going on.

"It is so cold." Utarz muttered. "Can't we get some blankets? I saw at least a dozen blankets in the base."

"Utarz, the day I let you get a blanket is the day I start drinking." Atar replied, his voice as cold as the air around them.

"Damn."

"Right, these conditions are perfect for an attack." Atar whispered. "They will never see us coming, never see us approaching the base… until we slit their throats."

"Actually, they have a fire going on." Utarz pointed out.

"What?"

"Yeah, there's this orangy-redish glow coming from behind their base."

"Dammit!"

"Another thing; why are we whispering?"

"They might hear us! We must remain as quiet as possible!"

Utarz looked at the small platform that they were standing on. Then he looked at the opposite base. Then he looked back at Atar.

"They're at the other end of the canyon." Utarz said, annoyed at Atar's paranoia.

"They could have super-hearing devices! They do have those, right Tracer?"

There was a pause. "Tracer?" Atar repeated irritably.

Tracer just stood silently, fuming. He was still incredibly angry about the fact that his best creation had gone up in flames before it had even been activated, so he wasn't even trying to listen to Atar. He was extremely devoted to his creations, so seeing it blow up was more than infuriating.

That, and he couldn't figure out how Ed had landed a perfect shot.

Utarz scoffed. "Aw, let Tracer continue his silence. It makes a good change."

Atar growled. "Utarz! Tracer is an excellent soldier and an important member of our squad! He is the one that holds us all together!"

Utarz raised what would have been an eyebrow. "How is he the 'one who holds us all together'?"

Atar looked at him. "Because I would have killed you long ago if it weren't for Tracer."

"Oh."

"And on that note, I want you to be less annoying tomorrow. Assuming that we'll still be alive by then-"

"We will." Utarz grumbled.

"-I want everyone to be on their best behaviour for when Repora arrives." Atar finished, acting like Utarz didn't even interrupt.

Upon hearing the word 'Repora', Utarz froze. "Wait, who?"

"Repora! Our new demolitions expert!" Atar exclaimed gleefully, turning to him. "He's going to arrive tomorrow for my plan to blow up the Marines!"

Atar caught an expression of absolute terror on Utarz's face before he warped it into his usual one. "Meh, whatever." Utarz said.

Atar looked at Utarz oddly for his fearful reaction, but let it slide. "He'll be a valuable assist to the plan. I just know it."

Utarz highly doubted this, as he knew Repora beforehand. He said nothing though. Some things were best seen than heard.

"Did you guys see any parts from the Wraith after it blew up?" Tracer asked suddenly.

"How could we not?" Utarz asked. "The Wraith's all over the canyon now."

"All over the canyon." Tracer seethed. "My precious Wraith is all over the canyon."

"When you think about it, it makes sense. No soldier would ever let the enemy build a tank." Atar stated.

"It was **my** Wraith." Tracer growled. "**My **creation. No-one messes with my creations."

"So what are you doing then?" Utarz asked. "Swearing revenge?"

"Yes." Tracer fumed. "Ed will regret destroying my Wraith."

Utarz shrugged. "Whatever."

Tracer glared at the opposite base like it had done him a personal wrong. "What's with their fire anyhow?"

"Obviously, they've resorted to cannibalism!" Atar said.

Even Tracer looked at Atar blankly.

"What?" Utarz asked, confused.

* * *

**Marines**

The Marines sat around the campfire, celebrating their victory. Tim had drunk enough alcohol to put Homer Simpson to shame and Ed and Howard were talking amongst themselves.

"I mean, did you see my shot? It was perfect! A hole in one!" Ed was bragging.

"Yes, yes." Howard said in a patronising tone, giving him an amused eye. "We were there."

"I know. It's just the first time I've hit something the first time."

"Well, I won't deny that it was the best moment in this squad we've ever had."

"Bah!" Tim looked at them, although with difficulty. "I could've hit it even better than everyone else, with the cannon and the potato and the…" Tim slumped back in his chair, muttering incoherently.

Ignoring Tim, Howard said "Now, for some serious news."

"Aw, man." Ed mock complained. "I was getting comfortable."

Howard smirked. "Tomorrow, we have a new squad member coming."

Ed sat up straight, suddenly paying attention. Tim tried to lift his head but gave it up as a bad job.

"He's a medic, he'll be tending to our wounds if anything should happen."

"What's his name?" Ed asked, interested.

"Dunno. I haven't seen him yet."

"Is he a girl?" Tim asked thickly.

"I don't know, and even if the medic was a girl, you probably would have a one to zero chance with her." Howard pointed out.

"Says you!" Tim accused, pointing a finger at him. "I could have anyone I wanted and they would…"

Tim fell out of his chair and fell asleep.

"I'm not gonna pity him in the morning." Ed chuckled.

**The next day**

"Owwwww." Tim complained. "My heeeaaaadddd… Must we get up so early?"

"Yes." Howard replied. "Just wait. He'll be here any moment."

"From where? The sky?" Tim asked.

"Yes." Ed pointed out. "Now just wait here. He'll be here soon."

"But he's coming all the way from Earth! He could take days to get here, months, even ye-"

A drop pod came out of the sky, landing on Tim's foot. He immediately started screaming in pain, shouting "WHHHHHHHYYYYYYYYYY MMMMMMMMMMEEEEEEEEEEEEE?!"

* * *

**Elites**

"So you're certain that the guy's name is Repora?" Utarz asked nervously.

"If you ask that one more time, I am going to shove this rifle-"

"I'm only checking!" Utarz said.

A purple pod suddenly crashed to the ground in front of them, making Utarz jump.

"Aha!" Tracer proclaimed happily, his anger having worn off during the night. "He's here!"

"Excellent!" Atar chuckled. "My plan can finally go apiece!"

"Oh Gods, no." Utarz whimpered.


	10. Newer Arrivals

**Marines and Elites**

**Chapter 10: New Arrivals**

**Immediately after Chapter 9**

* * *

**Marines**

Tim hopped around, clutching his foot and swearing. Eventually giving up on that, he sat down.

"You okay there?" Ed asked.

"Tell me the medic's a girl." Tim said. "It'll all be worth it if the medic's a girl."

"Yeah, you could use a medic." Howard said, frowning at his friend's injury.

The pod burst open. They all looked at it, watching a human being in standard Marine armour with a purple plus sign spray-painted on the front.

"Dammit." Tim grumbled.

"Good day, sir." The Marine said politely.

"And to you too." Howard stood up and shook the man's hand. "What's your name?"

"Sir, William, sir." The Marine replied.

Howard chuckled. "You don't need to bother with the whole 'sir at the start of a sentence' thing. Hell, you don't need to call me sir at all."

The Marine smiled. "Thank you, sir- uh, I mean…"

"Howard."

"Thank you, Howard."

The Marine turned to Tim. "What happened to him?"

"You're bloody pod landed on my foot!" Tim shouted, fed up. He had seriously been hoping for a girl.

"Ah. That does tend to hurt."

"You don't say." Tim muttered.

William looked at his foot. He studied it for a moment, then his eyes widened in surprise. "That's odd."

"What is?" Ed asked.

"When a drop pod lands on someone's foot, you'd expect the foot to be crushed and unusable, right?" The other Marines nodded. "Well, his foot's only broken."

"Only?!" Tim exclaimed.

"Yes. Only. Usually one would have to amputate the said foot. But, you'll only need to keep it in a bandage for a week or two."

"Huh. That's cool."

"Yeah," Ed smirked. "Looks like your skull isn't the only bone that's thick."

"Yeah? Well fuck you."

"Anything better insults?" Howard asked. "So far, that word appears to be the only provocation in your vocabulary."

"Better than anything you could come up with." Tim snarked.

"… Interesting friendship." William quipped.

Howard shrugged. "It's just how we act. Trust me; you'll want to snap at them too after a while."

"I doubt it sir. I never snapped at my sister and she drove me insane."

"I can relate!" Tim called out.

Ed looked up and down, unable to see an insignia on his armour. "I'm assuming that you're a Private?"

"Private?" William looked puzzled. "No. I only graduated last week."

There was a moment of silence as the other Marines took this in.

"What." Tim eventually said.

William looked even more puzzled. "Yeah. Didn't they tell you that?"

"No." Ed replied. "They just told that they'll send us a Medic."

"I don't believe this!" Tim growled. "We're up against three aliens and they sent us a rookie?!"

"Wait, we're fighting aliens?!" William exclaimed, panicked. "They told me that you guys were just testers for experimental equipment!"

"We are." Howard replied. "Some Elites have crashed into the opposite base."

"What?! My commanding officer never said anything about Elites!"

"Hmm…" Howard mused. "I have a theory. But I'll need to ask you a few questions first."

"But what about the aliens?!"

"Don't worry. They're just about as incompetent as we are."

"…You'll forgive me if I don't exactly find that reassuring."

"HEY!" Tim shouted. "What about my foot?!"

"Yeah!" Howard yelled back distractedly. "It looks great!"

Tim glared at him.

"Did we just get another reject?" Ed asked to the air.

* * *

**Elites**

The pod had a few weapons on the back, as well as a Ghost on the side. On the other side were several kinds of high explosives.

The pod opened. Out of it stepped a Sangheili clad in the white armour of a Ranger. One was unable to see his head beneath his helmet.

"Hello!" Repora said cheerfully.

"Good day. I take it that you are Repora?" Atar asked.

"Yup!" Repora seemed to be full of energy. "You must be the leader! I can tell by your General Armour."

"Yes. Are you trained in explosives?"

"EXPLOSIONS ARE AWESOME!" Repora suddenly shouted. Then he looked at Atar and said in a normal tone, "Yes."

"…Right." Atar said uncertainly. "There's no need to shout."

"But I like shouting."

"Well, I order you not to shout. Now take off your helmet. It's not necessary."

"Can't. It's stuck." Repora replied.

"Stuck?" Tracer was surprised. "Why is it stuck?"

"Probably because I haven't gotten out of my suit for about ten years."

"…**Why** haven't you gotten out of your suit for ten years?"

"It makes me look more mysterious. Besides, it's what the Author chose for my character!"

Atar and Tracer stared at him for a bit.

"…Quick question, uh…" Tracer began. "What did you score on your sanity approval test?"

"Dangerously low!" Repora chirped happily.

"…Right."

"Yeah, sometimes I like to stand still and talk to the voices in my head." Repora suddenly stood still and turned to look at his shoulder. After a moment of silence, Repora said, "Well they were going to find out anyway." He said it in an annoyed tone.

The other Elites stared at him for a bit more.

"Uhhh," Atar shook his head. "Right, um, introductions."

"Oh boy! I love introductions!"

"…Yeah, I am General Atar," He pointed to Tracer. "This is my second-in-command, Special Operations Soldier Tracer," He pointed to Utarz. "And this is the team jackass, Utarz."

Utarz winced. Repora stood still for a moment before asking, "Wait, what was the last one?"

"Utarz." Atar repeated. "You can call him by the word numbnuts if you like."

"…Utarz." Repora said slowly, turning to the said Elite. "…Buddy…"

"Hi." Utarz said nervously.

Repora just looked at him. "You know, I still haven't forgotten the last… favour… I did you…"

"Okay, look." Utarz was panicking now. "I still haven't gotten all the money; just give me a few more days-"

"UNACCEPTIBILITAH!" Repora suddenly roared, pulling a Fuel Rod gun off his back and firing at him.

Utarz yelped and ducked, running off to the pod towards the Ghost.

"Repora!" Atar shouted, taken aback by this sudden display of ferocity. "What do you think you're doing?!"

"Taking out the trash sir." Repora replied coolly.

His normal attitude coming back, Atar snarled, "Repora, as much as I would love to watch you kill Utarz, It's against the rules so I order you to stop right this instant!"

"No-can-do, sir." Repora said, taking aim again.

"What?!"

Utarz succeeded in pulling the Ghost off the pod. He got on and drove off, Repora chasing him and firing at him.

"Please don't kill me!" Utarz shouted. "Just give me more time!"

"Never!" Repora yelled back. "The combination of cocaine overdose and the voices in my head order me to blast you to shreds!"

Atar and Tracer stared at them go for a bit, trying to figure out what happened.

"Uh, sir?" Tracer said. "I think command sent us another reject."

"Uhhhhhhggggg," Atar groaned. "Gods above."

* * *

**Author's Notes**

**Sorry this chapter was so late, but stuff gets in the way, like schoolwork.**

…

**And Team Fortress 2.**

**So, I've finally introduced Repora and William. Personally, I really like Repora's character. I mean, we all needed a fourth wall breaker in this story, didn't we?**

**Thanks for watching.**

**Potato.**


	11. Organised Chaos

**Marines and Elites**

**Chapter 11: Organised Chaos**

**Ten minutes after Chapter 10**

* * *

**Marines**

William waited on the balcony, thinking about the situation he was in.

He had hoped that he would have been sent to a squad where people fought on the back lines. He never really fancied a front line job.

Yet this wasn't a front line job. True, there were aliens on the other side of the canyon, but this job just seemed… odd. It wasn't a back line job, it wasn't a front line job and it wasn't really a middle line job. It was like he was set off to one side.

It was weird.

Howard came up to the balcony. "Sorry I'm late." He apologised. "I had to write down my questions."

"I know." William replied. "You told me."

"I know."

"Then why…?"

"I don't know." Howard frowned. "I just had this weird urge to state the obvious."

He shook his head. "Anyway, let's start. Question one: Did you graduate from Military School?"

"Yes."

"Obvious one. Question two: Can you wrap bandages?"

"Yes."

"Good, good. Question three: Can you deliver medicine?"

William hesitated. "Yes, but I don't have any with me."

"Great." Howard muttered. "Question four: Can you make medicine?"

"Sort of. I know how to make cough syrup, but that's about it."

"Well, that's something at least. Question five: How old are you?"

"…Twenty-two. Why?"

"Because sometimes, people fake their age to get into the army. Question six: Have you ever taken drugs?"

"Only once, when I was sixteen."

"Okay. Question seven: Can you perform surgery?"

"No. I actually have a Royal Decree never to perform surgery ever again."

Howard stared at him.

Slightly embarrassed, William muttered, "In biology class during high school, I tried to dissect a frog. It ended up as a bloody mess on my bench."

"…Okay, that's slightly disturbing." Howard said uncertainly.

"I was kicked out of biology that day. I was devastated, I always wanted to continue in that area."

"Yes, thank you William."

"Coincidently, that was also the day I tried cannabis. It was actually quite-"

"**Thank you,** William."

"Sorry."

Howard sighed. "Question eight: How have you been seen or represented by your superiors?"

"I don't know. They always kick me out of their squad before I get a chance to know them."

"Thought so. Question nine: Do you have any good contacts in command?"

"No."

"Alright, question ten: Are you a pacifist?"

"No."

"Good. You'll need to hold a gun in situations like this." Howard said gravely. "Question eleven: What kind of guns are you allowed to hold?"

"Pistols and assault rifles."

"…That's it?"

"Yeah."

"And question twelve: Are you a good shot?"

"Like, with guns?"

"Yes."

"No. The last time I held a gun I injured four people. Who were behind me."

"Worrisome." Howard commented.

"Are there any more questions like this?" William asked.

"Yup." Howard replied. "About thirty-eight more."

William sighed. This might take a while.

* * *

"How long does it take for Howard to interview someone?" Tim asked.

"A bit." Ed replied. "You're acting like it's been a long time."

"It has! By my standards anyway."

"And what are you standards?"

"Five to six minutes."

"For everything."

"Yes."

"Even for a lap around the planet."

"Yes."

Ed sighed. Sometimes, he just couldn't see the logic in Tim's thinking.

They were standing by the entrance, waiting for Howard to stop interviewing the new guy. It had been about ten minutes, and Tim was doing nothing but complaining. Already, Ed was wishing to strangle him to death.

He was already stressed, because odd explosions were happening near the base on the other side.

"Do we even need a medic?" Tim asked. "I mean, he's a rookie! He's probably useless!"

"Don't judge a person by his rank." Ed replied. "I once met a guy who never got a promotion in his life, yet he was a perfect shot."

"This guy looks like he's never shot a gun in his life." Tim said dismissively.

"Ten credits says he has." Ed dared.

"Done." Tim said, without any hesitation.

Ed chuckled. "Anyway, that's not what I meant. I meant that just because he's a rookie doesn't mean he's not a good medic."

"Yeah, still…" Tim looked for a way to continue his argument. "Well, we still don't really need him. Remember when I got crushed by the jeep?"

"How could I forget?" Ed remarked.

"Well, Howard used that weird gun of his! We can just use that to cure injuries."

"We try not to use it unless it's an emergency."

"How come?"

"You see, it's been sitting in an abandoned facility in the Mexican desert for hundreds of years, right?"

"Yes…"

"So, it's been breaking down over the years." Ed explained. "The radiation's been leaking out of it for that time, even when Howard partially fixed it. Whenever we use it, the radiation leaks into the holder and receiver."

Tim stared at Ed. "…It leaks radiation."

"Yes."

"…Into the receiver."

"And the base."

"…Seriously?"

"Yup." Ed confirmed. "And now you know why we have hazmat suits."

Tim looked thoughtful for a moment, then shrugged. "Well, that explains why I can see in the dark now."

"And why my pupils changed colour." Ed added.

Remembering his argument, Tim added, "But we can do medic stuff! All you need to do is give people medicine, right?"

"Can you perform surgery?" Ed asked.

"…No, but I'm pretty sure that the new guy can't as well."

"Here they come." Ed pointed out.

"Okay."

Howard and William walked up to them. "Okay." Howard began. "I've arrived at a conclusion."

"Can he perform surgery?" Tim asked.

Howard blinked. "What? No, he can't, he-"

"HA!" Tim shouted triumphantly, pointing at Ed. "Told you!"

"Anyway," Howard resumed. "I believe that-"

"Has he ever held a gun?" Ed asked.

Howard sighed. "No."

Ed turned to Tim, smirking. "Ten credits, please."

Tim grumbled.

"Anyway." Howard started up again. "I believe that William was sent here because of the same reason that the rest of us are here."

"Which is?" William asked curiously.

"You're a reject." Howard deadpanned. "All of us are."

"What?" William seemed surprised. "Really?"

"Yes."

"Seriously?!" Tim seemed furious. "They sent us another reject?!"

"Yup." Howard seemed mildly annoyed. "I'll be having a word with my cousin later on."

Ed didn't seem surprised in the least. "It makes sense when you think about it. I mean, we are a reject squad, command would only send us a rejected rookie."

"Yeah, but still…" Tim grumbled.

"Hey, I might be a reject, but I can do loads of things!" William said, trying to brighten them up. "I can make cough syrup, I can treat food poisoning, I can… uh…"

"Hey, William? Shut up." Ed requested.

William sighed. "You know, you guys could be a bit more polite."

"Shut up, William." The other three Marines said unanimously.

"No can do. Sorry," William apologised. "But I have to ask about the medical info about you guys."

Howard sighed. "Very well…"

"Good. Okay now…" William turned to Ed. "Anything I should know about?"

"Yeah. There's a gun in this base that leaks radiation." Ed said.

"I know about that." William replied. "I mean anything about you that I should know about."

"No."

"Ever smoked?" William asked.

"No."

"Taken drugs?"

"No."

"Have you ever undertaken-"

"No means no." Ed snapped.

"Okay, okay…" William turned to Howard. "What about you?"

"I've never been the one to take drugs or smoke or anything like that." Howard responded.

"Ever had an illness like cancer?"

"Yes. I had prostate cancer, but nothing in recent years."

"Okay." Finally, William turned to Tim. "Have you ever done something so incredibly stupid that it effected your health either mentally, or physically?"

"What?!" Tim spluttered.

"Howard said that you were the least intelligent member of your team." William said.

"Hey, I am not as dumb as the rest of my family!" Tim snarled. "Why, I'm actually smarter that my ancestors!"

"By one IQ point Tim." Ed pointed out. "**One IQ point.**"

Tim muttered something under his breath. Then he sighed and said, "I've smoked cigarettes, weed and I've managed to get Type 2 Diabetes."

William raised an eyebrow. "You don't have Diabetes anymore, right?"

"Would I be here if I did?"

"Good point." William sighed in satisfaction. "Alright, seems that you guys are good to go!"

"Whoop de doo." Ed muttered.

"Alright, I need to talk to Ed for a moment." Howard said.

"Me? Why me?" Ed asked.

"Because my plan involves you." Howard responded. "It's nothing too major, it's just-"

**KABOOM!**

An explosion suddenly rocked the base in an explosion of green fire. The Marines stumbled, unprepared for the sudden force.

"WHAT WAS THAT?!" Tim shouted.

"Battle formations, now!" Howard yelled, pulling out his gun.

"What?!" William replied.

"Pull out your weapons!"

"Got it!" Ed shouted back.

They faced the other end of the base, waiting for the threat to arise, expecting the Elites to be storming in, firing at them.

What they didn't expect was that one of them was firing at his own teammate.

* * *

**Elites**

Utarz was terrified. He knew that Repora would react to his presence like this, but he was still terrified for his life. The Ghost was a lifesaver, he knew that he would be dead by now if he didn't have it.

Repora, meanwhile, was in a state of pure rage and hatred. He was going to kill Utarz, he was. Heaven and Hell were shouting at him to destroy him in a hellish blaze and the cocaine going through his system was destroying what shreds of rational thought he had.

It was proving to be tough though. Utarz's ghost was going faster than him, and he always managed to dodge his Fuel Rod bolts. It had taken them around the canyon and now he was nearing the other base. He had heard that there were three humans there. He kind of wanted to murder them as well.

Utarz looped around the base, going around the other side. Repora chased him, roaring, "Utarz! Come back here and **die!**"

"No!" Utarz replied.

"Oh, I'll get you." Repora growled, reloading his gun. "I'll kill you and then I'll kill you some more, and then…" He turned to his left, noticing the four humans standing there, watching him.

Immediately, his violent demeanour vanished, replaced by a cheerful one.

"Oh, hello!" He said brightly. "You must be the humans that we're fighting!"

A small silence followed his statement.

"…Uh…" The white one seemed nervous. "…Yes."

"Good! I'm Repora." He extended his hand for a shake. "What's your name?"

The white one stared at him blankly for a moment, before cautiously taking his hand and shaking it. "Howard." He said hesitantly.

Repora looked around. "That's funny. Command told me that there were only three of you. Why are there four of you?" He asked.

"I'm new." The purple one said nervously.

"Hey! Me too!" Repora walked over to him, extending his hand again. "What's your name?"

"William." He shook Repora's hand. "I'm the team doctor."

"Really?" Repora looked at him quizzically. "In my society, doctors are frowned upon."

William blinked. "What? Really?"

"Yeah!" Repora went over to the blue one. "So, who are you?"

This one seemed particularly afraid of him.

"Tim Hammerstrike." He squeaked.

Repora blinked. "Wait, Tim **Hammerstrike?** As in, the ancestor of the famous **Zac Hammerstrike?**"

"Yes…" Tim seemed uncertain.

Repora turned to the orange one excitedly. "Then you would be the ancestor of the famous **Sam Whently?!**"

"Um, yeah…" The orange one backed away.

Repora spun around to Howard. "So you are the ancestor of the famous **Max Einstein?!**"

Howard nodded slowly.

Repora stared at each of them in turn, in awe.

"Can I have your autographs?" He asked excitedly.

This statement was greeted with the longest blank stare period he had been given in this entire encounter.

"What." Ed eventually broke the silence.

"Your autographs!" Repora was close to jumping up and down. "Come on, it isn't a crime to give your enemies your autograph, is it? Wait, hold on." Repora paused. Then he looked up. "Hey Potato, can I get their autographs?"

Yeah, I suppose. I mean, it would add in a bit of comedic effect.

"Excellent." Repora said happily, pulling a pen and a notebook out of nowhere. "In order please."

Utarz just stared at the little situation, as each of the puzzled Marines got the pen and paper and signed it, as Repora jumped up and down happily.

"Repora!" Utarz yelled. "What the fuck do you think you're doing?!"

"Getting their autographs!" Repora yelled back. "Don't worry, I'll be back with you in a moment."

"Getting their- Repora, they're the **enemy!**" Utarz shouted.

"Hey, these guys are descendants of Sam Whently, Max Einstein and Zac Hammerstrike!"

"So what?!"

"So, they deserve some recognition!"

"Recognition?! The Forerunners have ordered their destruction, and we will deliver it! Now either kill them now, or go home!"

Repora took the completed paper. "Is there an option for your death?"

"What?! No, I-"

"Yes? Okay, TIME TO DIE!" Repora roared, taking out his Fuel Rod gun and running towards him, firing randomly.

Utarz shrieked and pulled out, retreating from the onslaught as Repora tried to murder him.

* * *

**Author's notes**

**Right, back on schedule. This is a good feeling.**

**On holidays at the moment on the coast. Pretty awesome, barely any internet connection but I will not let that stop me from completing this fanfic! Unless it's something important.**

**(EDIT) I feel that I should explain something. I've decided that this story is set in an alternative universe. The events of Halo still happened, but before that, another alien set his sights on Earth. The characters Sam Whently, Max Einstein and Zac Hammerstrike are part of that. Hopefully, I can explain the events better some other time.**

**Thanks for watching.**

**Potato.**


	12. Looking for Replacements

**Marines and Elites**

**Chapter 12: Looking for Replacements**

**Immediately after Chapter 12**

* * *

**Elites**

"BRUTUS!" Atar roared. "WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS?!"

Brutus just stared back at him with the best troll face Atar had ever seen. "What do you mean? You asked for another soldier and I gave you another soldier."

"Exactly! I asked for a **soldier**!" Atar snapped. "Not a psychopathic half-wit!"

Brutus shrugged. "He was the only one the Prophets were willing to give to you."

"And pray tell, why did they only want to give me Repora?"

"Simple. You asked for a soldier with experience in explosives. Repora was the only demolitions expert available."

"Sorry, did you just say demolitions **expert?! **He doesn't look like he could throw a plasma grenade!"

"Surprisingly enough, Repora is one of the best demolitions experts in your race. Top ten in fact, although he is number nine on that list…"

Atar snarled. "I want a competent soldier for my plan, Brutus! I fully expect to get a replacement for him by next morning!"

Brutus chuckled. "Atar, Atar, Atar… Why the hell would I give you a competent soldier? Recite the purpose of the Covenant 800 Squad."

"I don't have time for this…"

"Recite it."

Atar sighed. "The Covenant 800 Squad is to be used to store the worst of the Forerunner's instruments. Only soldiers that have both poor field skills and poor test results will be sent."

"There you go." Brutus did a Brute's impression of a smirk. "You cannot have a competent soldier by next morning, next week or next year. Your squad will never have any competent soldiers, ever. So you will deal with Repora or you won't have another soldier." The screen switched off.

Atar glared at the screen, boiling over with insults that he could use against Brutus. Unable to actually say them, he made an email, added about a few dozen insults and sent it to him. Then, he activated his radio and switched to Repora's frequency.

* * *

Repora fired another few rounds at Utarz, vaguely registering that someone was trying to call him. Then he had to reload and actually registered that someone was trying to call him.

"Hmmm…" Repora contemplated answering it. "Should I answer that?"

A poof of white smoke appeared on Repora's left shoulder, revealing a mini version of himself that had white angel wings and a halo.

"You should, you know." Heaven said. "It's common courtesy to answer a ringing phone or radio."

A poof of black smoke appeared on Repora's right shoulder, revealing a mini version of himself that had red horns sprouting from its helmet and a pointy tail.

"Who cares?" Hell cackled. "The caller won't mind if we miss just one call! Just ignore it, continue killing Utarz!"

A poof of grey smoke appeared on Repora's head, revealing a mini version of himself that acted like a robot.

"I believe that this course of action should be approached by-"

"Hey, get out of here Purgatory!" Repora snapped.

"Get back to the back of our head!" Heaven ordered.

"No-one likes you!" Hell snarled.

"I am so sad." Purgatory droned, disappearing in a puff.

Repora finished reloading. "I reckon I should answer it. The new commander might not be as easy to kill as our last one."

Heaven chuckled. "That one was weak."

Hell grumbled incoherently.

"Awwwww, don't worry Hell!" Repora said brightly, shooting another round and squashing a small rabbit under his foot. "I still love you!"

"Bullshit."

"Yeah, you're right. It is bullshit. Now you two, get back in my head."

The two imaginary being disappeared in two puffs of smoke.

Repora flicked a switch on the side of his helmet. "Yello?"

"Repora, I wish to speak with you." Atar said.

"Oh, hey Atar!" He said brightly. "What's up?"

"I have a plan to destroy the humans and it involves you."

"Sounds interesting." Repora mused.

POOF

"Ask him whether it involves explosions." Hell ordered.

"Does it involve explosions?" Repora asked.

"What do you think?" Atar replied.

"…" Repora thought about this for a moment. "…No?"

Atar growled. "Look, just come over to the base and I'll explain it to you."

"Sorry sir, no-can-do. Utarz still isn't dead."

"I can see that." Atar grumbled. "But I just gave you a direct order, and as my underling, you have to follow it."

Firing another few shots at Utarz, Repora sighed. This guy was really annoying.

"I don't take orders very well. I had a disagreement with my last commanding officer about them."

"What happened then?"

Repora hesitated.

POOF

"Just tell him." Heaven sighed. "We're not going to accomplish anything by delaying the inevitable."

"I shot him in the gut." Repora deadpanned, throwing a plasma grenade at Utarz. "Then I pulled out his spine. Then I ripped off his arms. It was bit of a blur past that point. A pair of pliers might have been involved."

There was silence on the other end of the line after this.

"Don't worry!" Repora said happily. "I won't kill you if you don't give me reason to."

"…Right." Atar said nervously. "Never mind about the plan then."

"Okay!" Repora chirped, stroking a bird that got hit by shrapnel.

* * *

Tracer looked around nervously. Every now and then he heard an explosion and got paranoia. He then reminded himself that it was literally against the law to interfere with a higher ranking officer's work. And rebuilding his Wraith counted as work.

He had been trying to rebuild the thing since last night. The only reason he had come back inside was because Atar ordered him to get some sleep. Now, he was almost finishing his Wraith, the parts starting to come together.

He had purposely begun rebuilding it behind the base, mainly because Repora's fight with Utarz seemed to be restricted to the area in the middle. It also hid the Wraith from the view of the Marines. He looked at his work happily, satisfied with how it was going.

Then he heard a Ghost incoming.

Confused, he looked around. Utarz sped past him, shrieking, "Every male for himself!"

Tracer watched him go, a growing sense of panic coming over him. He spun around again in time to see Repora charge at him, Fuel Rod gun in hand.

Now definitely panicking, Tracer jumped up and shielded his work from Repora, crying out, "No no no wait! It's highly fragile, a single blast will-"

Ignoring Tracer completely, Repora came up to the Wraith, inspecting it.

"This is a Wraith, isn't it?" He asked casually.

"…Yes…" Tracer said nervously.

"Can I borrow it? I may need something bigger to kill Utarz with."

"Um... It's not loaded yet… It doesn't actually work, but I'm working on it…"

Repora looked at the Wraith for a bit more.

Then he fired at it.

The Wraith exploded in a flash of purple and green fire. Tracer was knocked back by the blast, looking at the wreckage of the Wraith.

A growing sense of fury quickly overrode Tracer's slight fear of Repora.

* * *

**Marines**

"YOU SON OF A BITCH!"

Ed jumped, startled. He looked at the Elite's base, where the sound had come from. He gulped nervously and hoped that the speaker wasn't referring to one of them.

William came up to him. "Who was that? Was it you?"

"No, it was one of the Elites. I think…"

"Huh." William looked over to the opposite base. "Which one?"

Ed blinked. "Which one? How should I know?"

"Well… Don't you recognise their voices?"

Ed looked at him. "Why would I recognise a voice from them? Do I have tea parties with them or something?"

"No, it's just… nothing. Never mind."

Ed grunted.

William whistled for a bit, sighed and asked, "So… how's the weather usually like here?"

"…It's sunny. Warm. No clouds."

"Huh. How does it treat you?"

Ed looked at him. "…Are you trying to make small talk?"

"Well, what else do I do? With all due respect, you aren't very talkative."

"It's not that I'm not talkative, I just talk when I have to talk."

"You talked a lot beforehand."

"…Shut up."

There was about half a minute of silence after that.

"…So how long have you been here?"

Ed growled. "Three years."

"Three years?! By yourselves?!"

"Yup. It's been a good run."

"Why aren't you at the front lines? I thought the UNSC had to get everyone they needed."

"We would just get in the way." Ed replied briefly.

"How come?"

"Because we are terrible soldiers."

"We are?"

"**Yes!**"

"Okay, okay. Just checking."

"Hmf."

Another ten seconds of silence passed.

"So how's your family?" William asked.

"Oh, for the love of God, if you don't shut up-!"

"Hey, I'm just trying to make conversation! Isn't that what guys do?"

"No! Guys like us just stand around the place!"

"Why?"

"Because that's just what we do!" Ed exploded. "We stand around and talk! That's all we do, that's all we ever do! That's what we were doing last week, that's what we were doing yesterday so in the next five years, we are still going to be doing that same old thing!"

William thought about this for a moment.

"But I was talking all this time." William said, confused.

Ed glared at him. "You just set a speed record. You've only been here for less than half an hour and I already hate you."

William turned around and left, muttering, "This is what I get for trying to be nice."

* * *

Howard sighed as he looked at the situation unfolding at the Elite's base through a sniper rifle scope. Repora was still chasing Utarz all over the place, and for some reason, Tracer was chasing Repora as well.

He just couldn't understand why Repora would try to kill his own teammate. It didn't make sense.

"Yo, Howard." Tim said, walking in.

"Hello Tim." Howard replied. "Something the matter?"

"Yeah, I came here to ask you a favour."

"No." Howard said firmly.

"You don't even know what the favour is!"

"Tim, the last time you asked if I could do you a favour, it ended up with sixteen, count them, **sixteen** half-naked women coming to the base. And then command launched an investigation as to why several female soldiers left their posts in a single day and then I had to go to command and complete hours of paperwork."

Tim stared at him for a while. Then he said, "This favour's different."

"Oh really?"

"Yeah. No women are involved in this one." Tim reassured him.

"Alright, let's hear it."

"I want a Mongoose."

Howard looked at him in confusion. "Why would you want a pet mongoose?"

"No, as in the vehicle Mongoose."

Howard stared at him. "…Why do you need a Mongoose?"

"Simple. That blue Elite, Utarz I think his name is, had a Ghost. In case you don't remember, they also had a tank with them."

"Which we destroyed."

"Yeah, but they might have rebuilt it!"

"In one day?"

"Come on. You saw how quickly the guy built the thing in the first place."

Howard sighed, rubbing his eyes. "Tim, why do you want a Mongoose?"

"I told you, they-"

"No, really, why do you want a Mongoose?"

"Utarz had a Ghost, it should be fair to have a Mongoose!"

"So basically what you're saying is that you want a Mongoose for the sake of having a Mongoose."

"Yeah." Tim looked rather hopeful. "So what do you say?"

"…I'll think about it."

"YAY!"

"I said I'll think about it. That isn't a guarantee. Besides, command might not roll with it. They might want to keep their Mongooses."

"But you'll ask, right?"

"…Fine."

"WOOHOO!" Tim sped off, shouting. "I'M GETTING A MONGOOSE!"

* * *

**Author's Notes**

**There's something I should explain about this fanfic, as it will explain why I have skipped making two chapters in two weeks.**

**You see, I usually work on this during school because, well, I don't have anything better to do during that time. And the last two weeks were during the school holidays.**

**So it was kind of hard for me to get started on it because during that time I'm playing Team Fortress 2, Half-Life 2, watching Youtube and going to holiday parks that have absolutely no internet connection.**

**So hopefully that'll explain a few things. Now back to business.**

**Thanks for watching.**

**Potato.**


	13. Complaints and Coffee

**Marines and Elites**

**Chapter 13: Complaints and Coffee**

**Ten minutes after Chapter 12**

* * *

**Elites**

Repora was exhausted. Usually when he was trying to kill Utarz he could run for days, but for some reason, he was particularly tired of this.

"Utarz…" He panted as he fired shot after shot of pure radiation at him. "Come on buddy… Slow down…"

"What, and let you kill me?" Utarz replied. "No thanks!"

"Please… It'll only take a minute…"

Utarz boosted away.

Repora stopped for a moment to catch his breath. He couldn't understand why he was suddenly so tired. Maybe Heaven or Hell knew.

POOF

"I think the cocaine high has worn off." Heaven said.

"No… shit… Sherlock…" Repora groaned. He reloaded and tried to find the energy to start firing again.

He couldn't find it.

POOF

"I have a brilliant idea!" Hell said brightly.

"More cocaine isn't a brilliant idea." Heaven pointed out.

"What, you have a better one?" Hell asked, annoyed.

"Both of you…" Repora sighed. "Shut up."

Utarz came up to him. "What's up, too exhausted to continue missing?"

"Not… my fault… that your… Ghost is… too fast." Repora responded. He tried to charge at him, but ended up falling to the ground.

"Okay, that's pathetic." Utarz said.

Repora groaned. "Ahhhhhhhh, fuck it." He stood up. "Can't be bothered anymore."

"For what?"

"Trying to kill you." Repora replied.

"What are you doing?!" Hell asked, horrified.

"He's conserving his energy." Heaven said.

"Ooooooohhhhhhhhhh."

"Seriously?" Utarz said in disbelief. "You won't try to kill me anymore?"

"Oh, I will try to kill you." Repora glared at him. "Just not now. This is a truce."

"Oh." Utarz seemed uncertain. "So… when does the truce end?"

"When a set of secret circumstances are broken."

"Do I get to know what those circumstances are?"

"No."

"…Please?"

"Nope."

"Fine." Utarz turned back to base. Repora followed.

Deciding to make some conversation, Repora asked, "Sooooooooooo… how are the other guys like?"

"What other guys?"

"You know… back at our base."

"Oh. Well, Tracer is a total nerd and Atar is an arsehole."

"Anything else?"

"No."

"Do we have cocaine?"

"…" Utarz stared at him in disbelief. "…What."

"Cocaine! You know, the white magic powder that makes you see things and gives you energy!"

"…You do cocaine now?"

"Utarz, I've **always **done cocaine. You just happened to notice it just now."

"Is cocaine responsible for those guys you call… who were they, God and Devil?"

"That's not their names anymore. Now they're Heaven and Hell."

"…Right."

"Yeah, cocaine didn't create them. They've been with me ever since you killed her."

"It was an accident." Utarz grumbled.

"Accident, schmaxident. I still hate you."

"So why aren't you killing me right now?"

"Guess."

Utarz thought about it. "You're a schizophrenic homicidal maniac who can't tell the difference between a cake and a shoe."

Repora gasped. "How'd you know?"

"Lucky guess." Utarz shrugged.

"Anyway, that's not the reason you're still alive. The reason is that you're one of the main characters and you can't really die this early in the fanfiction. So you're going to stay alive until the author says so." Repora looked up. "Isn't that right, author?"

…Maybe.

Repora seemed annoyed. "What do you mean, maybe?"

I mean maybe. As a main character, he's not going to die any time soon. But dying will make the fanfic more dramatic. So I'm not too certain.

"Oh, come on! Make up your mind already!" Repora cried.

"…I think I remember why I'm so terrified of you." Utarz said.

"Whatever." Repora said. "Anyway, I've gotten off topic. Do you have any cocaine?"

"No."

"Is there any cocaine in the base?"

"No."

"Is there any cocaine in the-"

"I said no. That means that there's no cocaine anywhere."

"Oh." Repora seemed disappointed. "Do we have coffee?"

"Yes."

Repora brightened up. "Oooooohhhhhh! New way to get high!"

* * *

To Tracer, anger was an unusual thing. He preferred getting scared as opposed to getting angry.

But someone messing with his inventions was something he would never tolerate.

"Sir!" He shouted as he stormed up to him as he looked over the canyon. "Sir!"

"Let me guess." Atar sighed. "Repora."

"He has to go." Tracer said simply. "He just destroyed my Wraith."

"How many times?"

"Once."

"You're willing to send him out just because of one thing?"

"He's a maniac!" Tracer exploded. "He's an insane idiot who doesn't deserve to exist! …Sorry sir."

"Don't worry Tracer." Atar said. "I don't blame you for getting angry. Hell, if it were up to me, then I would agree with you. But we can't send him back."

"What?!"

"Yeah, Brutus directly opposed us. And you know the saying. If Brutus says no…"

"Then the Prophets say no." Tracer groaned. "So he's stuck here."

"Yup."

An idea struck Tracer. "Can we execute him?"

"What?!"

"Can we execute him? I mean, it's not like he'll actually be useful to us."

"What's wrong with you?! We can't execute him!"

"Why not?" Tracer argued. "He's crazy!"

"That's not a proper reason to execute someone!" Atar snapped. "A proper reason would 'mindless murder of individuals'."

"I'm pretty sure Repora would have mindlessly murdered individuals."

"Yes, but we can't prove that." Atar countered. "If we were proven wrong, we would be lying. And I never tell lies Tracer. _Never._"

Tracer searched his mind for another reason. "Well, how about we execute him for insubordination?"

"Can't. That's not a good reason either."

"Are you sure sir?"

"Yup. If it wasn't, I would've put Utarz against the firing wall years ago."

"Alright then…" Tracer pondered a bit more. "How about we execute him for attacking a fellow teammate?"

"Not a good reason."

"…You're kidding me." Tracer stated disbelievingly.

"Nope. Why do you think I hurt Utarz so much?"

Tracer tried to come up with another good reason, but he couldn't really come up with one. It was like Repora had deliberately only done things that wouldn't get him executed.

"How about… um…"

"Tracer, look." Atar looked at him. "I've spent some time trying to discover a loophole as well, but there isn't one. Because if there was, I would have killed him already."

Tracer sighed. "I guess…"

"I don't ask you to like him. I just ask you to avoid killing him."

"I can't make any promises sir." Tracer said. "He might destroy my Wraith again."

"Well, at least you're being honest."

"Hey."

Atar and Tracer turned around to look at Repora and Utarz, who had come in recently.

"Can I have some coffee?" Repora asked nicely. "I promise I won't destroy Utarz with it."

Atar looked at Utarz. He shrugged. "Personally Atar, I'd do what he says. You wouldn't like it when he's really angry."

"General," Atar growled. "Or SIR."

* * *

**Marines**

William walked up to Tim. "Hi Tim."

Tim turned around. "Oh. Hi William."

"You don't have to call me that." William pointed out. "You can just call me Will."

"Yeah, for some reason, it feels weird to call you Will, so I'm sticking with William."

"Okay." William looked around. "Hey, uh, what is there to eat and drink around here?"

"Why do you care?" Tim asked. "You hungry?"

"No. It's just that it's my job to see what kind of food and drink you guys have."

"Really?"

"Yeah. I have to see whether the food you have is healthy or not."

"What does it matter if the food is healthy?" Tim seemed legitimately confused.

"…I'm gonna pretend I didn't hear that." William said. "So what kind of breads do you have?"

"White."

"Anything else?"

"No."

"Yeah, that'll have to change. Meats?"

"Uhhhh, we have beef, pork, something that I'm not too familiar with… and that's about it."

"Poultry?" William pressed.

Tim gave him a blank look.

"Bird meat." William explained.

"Oh. Doesn't that count as meat?"

"You never went to school, didn't you?"

"No, I went there. I just never paid much attention."

William sighed. "Okay, okay… leaves?"

"What?! Why would we eat leaves?!"

"**Everyone eats leaves.**"

Tim blinked. "Really?"

"Yes. Loads of them. Lettuce, cabbage…"

"Ohhhhhhh, _those._ I never knew they were leaves."

"My God…" William muttered. "Vegetables?"

"Well, we have tomato sauce… does that count?"

"No."

"Oh. Well then no."

"Fruits?"

"Uh, apples, apple sauce, apple juice, um…"

"Anything other than apples?"

"We have carrots."

"That's a vegetable."

"Oh."

"Any citrus fruits?"

"What's a citrus?" Tim asked curiously.

"Never mind. Any cereals?"

"Oh yeah, we have Fruit Loops, Cheerios, some chocolate stuff, and some weird 'Plus' stuff that Howard says has extra nutrients."

"That's not what I meant."

"Oh. Then what did you mean?"

"**Grains**."

"Uhhhhhhhhhhhh…"

"I'm going to take that as a no. Any military rations?"

"Oh, God no. We don't get any of that crap."

"How come?"

Tim chuckled. "Let's just say that being descendants of world heroes has its benefits."

"Okay. On to drinks."

"Oh, we have plenty of **that**."

"Water?"

"Um… there's water down the stream." Tim said helpfully.

"Do you drink it?"

"…No."

William sighed. "I'm going to assume that all you have here is soft drinks."

"…Yeah. Well actually, we have fruit juices…"

"Right, well this calls for drastic measures." William looked at him. "From now on, you guys are going to have to cook your own food."

"WHAT?!" Tim cried, aghast.

"You're going to have to cook your own food." William repeated. "You can't keep going on like this. And more water as well."

"But, but, but we don't have any stuff that we can actually cook with!"

"That's okay. I'll put some orders in the next supply drop."

Tim realised something. "Wait! No-one here knows how to cook!"

William blinked. "Wait, what?"

At this point, Ed came up, looking confused. "Tim, what are you talking about?"

Tim looked triumphant. "Well, William here wants us to cook our own food, and since none of us here can cook…" He let the statement trail off.

"I can cook." Ed deadpanned.

"…"

"Oh, thank goodness." William said. "I thought that you were all doomed."

"Shut up William." Ed replied.

"And now, I'm wishing you weren't here to help." William grumbled.

"Can… can Howard cook?" Tim asked faintly.

"Yes." Ed looked at Tim in the same way he did when Tim asked what they were doing here. "Can't you?"

Tim didn't respond.

"You have **got **to be fucking kidding me." William said.

Ed sighed. "Anyway, Howard wants to talk to me. You two figure this out by yourselves." He left.

William and Tim didn't even register his leaving.

"That is **sad.**" William added.

"I know, I know…" Tim grumbled. "Can you cook?"

"Yes." An idea struck William. "Actually, I think I'll teach you how to cook."

"What?" Tim said weakly.

"I'll teach you. It's standard procedure that every squad member should be able to cook."

"But… but…"

"No buts." William said firmly. "We start tomorrow."

As William left the room, Tim groaned. "I thought I was done with this when I left high school."

* * *

Ed walked into Howard's office. Just this morning he had been told to visit him in his office at whatever time was available. He counted right now as 'available'.

He knocked on the door, hearing the familiar "Come in." He walked in.

"Ah. Hello Ed." Howard said. "Is there something you need?"

"You wanted me?"

"Oh, that. Yes…" Howard frowned. "It's a very… unpleasant job, but a job that needs doing none the less."

"Uh huh. What would that be?"

"I need you to kill one of the Elites."

There was a small silence.

"…What." Ed finally managed to say.

Howard thought about it. "Preferably the commander. They won't get any orders without him."

"WHAT."

"You're probably wondering why I chose you for this job."

"Yes."

"It seemed to me that you were the most intelligent member of our squad who-"

"No I'm not! You are, remember?"

"Let me finish. You are the most intelligent member of our squad who is _also _a good shot."

"A good shot?!"

"Who was the one who destroyed the Wraith?" Howard asked him.

"Well, me, but I can't kill them!" Ed protested. "I can't get too close to them! The white one, Repora or whatever he's called, will kill me!"

"Remember the prototype sniper rifle we have?"

"That thing has one shot in it!"

"Then line it up correctly." Howard replied. "I've looked at all the data and it shows that unless we do something now, then this 'battle' will go on for months."

"Really?"

"Or possibly years. And let's face it: that'll be a waste of our time and theirs. At least one of them is probably thinking along the lines I'm thinking."

"But… what about the others?"

Howard raised an eyebrow in amusement. "Tim is a complete idiot, William is a terrible shot and I take too long in lining up my target."

"I… I…" Ed couldn't find any more arguments. With a sigh, he gave up. "Fine."

"Good." Howard seemed pleased. "Be sure to keep the gun safe. It's an antique."

* * *

**Author's Notes**

**I don't have any notes! Happiness!**

**(EDIT) Actually, I do. I have a Tumblr account now, so you can ask me and my characters questions! And by characters, I mean the ones from Marines and Elites and MDW: Moongate Asylum.**

**Thanks for watching.**

**Potato.**


	14. Assassin's Feed

**Marines and Elites**

**Chapter 14: Assassin's Feed**

**Two days after Chapter 13**

* * *

**Marines**

"Okay, so what did we learn last lesson?" William asked Tim.

"Never pour sunflower oil onto an open flame?" Tim replied.

"That, and…?"

"…Gunpowder isn't a flavouring thingy?"

William sighed. "How to cook pancakes."

"Oh that! I forgot."

William and Tim were in the kitchen, like they were the last two days. William had kept his word and had been teaching Tim to cook for that time. As far as he was concerned, it wasn't having much effect.

"Alright, first, we have to make the batter. Tell me that you remembered how to do that."

"Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh…"

"First step. I repeated it to you **ten times **yesterday."

"OH, yeah! We have to, uh, get flour!"

"And then what?"

"Put it in the bowl!"

'And then?"

"…"

"We sift it."

"Oh, yeah! And then, we get the baking powder…"

"Uh huh. And then…"

"Salt!"

William was impressed, although still cautious. "And then what?"

"And then we whisk some eggs, and… I reckon I can figure out the rest."

"You sure?"

"Yup!"

William thought about it. It wouldn't hurt to give him a try, right?

"Okay, but when you've finished, it better be edible." William replied, walking out.

"Got it!" Tim looked around. "Hmm… what's the next one? Oh, right! Green food colouring!"

He poured that into the mixture and frowned. "That doesn't look right…" He shrugged. "Eh, what the hell. I can just call this a variation."

He picked up a box from the shelf above him. "Now then… I'll add in some… was it a rock or rock salt? Oh! I'll put them both in!"

* * *

"Not the **animal **Mongoose." Howard said, frustrated. "The **vehicle **Mongoose."

"Oh. Why?" Mac asked.

"Tim wants one." Howard replied. "He didn't give a proper explanation as to why he wanted it though."

"Uh huh. And just what does he plan on doing with the Mongoose?" Mac had a familiar glint in his eye.

"Don't do this again." Howard said angrily.

"How do I know that this Mongoose won't become a part of some nefarious plan to overthrow the UNSC?"

This was a stupid question and they both knew it.

"How would I be able to overthrow command with a Mongoose?" Howard asked.

"Oh, I don't know. You might be able to drive it through a wall and distract people… or you could drive over the Admiral…"

"Right. Because I definitely know where the Admiral is."

"Exactly."

"Mac. I'm just trying to do something for my friend. Don't make this an attempt to discredit me."

"Fine, I won't try to discredit you. You'll still have to give me a good reason for me to give you one, though."

Howard thought for a moment. "Well… The Elites have got two vehicles. A Wraith and a Ghost." Technically, it was true. They had the Ghost and they were building the Wraith.

"Hmm… and?"

"And, uh… That's it."

"No-can do."

"Oh, for God's sake… I will give you money if you give me the Mongoose."

Mac chuckle. "Why would I need money? I get paid well enough, thanks."

"I'm your cousin."

"No difference."

"Come on!" Howard exclaimed. "If you won't give one to me, then give one to Tim!"

"Nah. Can't be stuffed."

"But I tell you-"

The monitor shut off.

Howard sighed. Looks like Tim would have to wait to get a Mongoose. Until they get a better person to talk to at command anyway.

* * *

**Elites**

Repora looked around the kitchen. He was bored. There was nobody to kill and only the kitchen salt for company. And he couldn't kill the kitchen salt. He was bored bored bored bored.

"Hmm…" He wondered to himself. "I wonder where the others are. Oh! Maybe I can pay him a visit!"

POOF

"No, no." Heaven said to him. "They want to be left alone. That's why they're not here."

"I guess…"

POOF

"Don't listen to him!" Hell snarled. "Go pay them a visit, they could use the attention."

Repora thought for a moment. "Sorry Hell. I'm gonna have to go with Heaven in this one."

"Oh, please!" Hell snorted. "If you go pay them a visit, then you'll be able to kill Utarz. Don't you want to do that?"

"He has got a point." Heaven said.

Annoyed, Repora snapped, "Hey, I'm on your side!"

Heaven shrugged. "Just saying."

"Don't you guys remember? Atar doesn't want us killing anybody on the team. He yelled at us, remember?"

"Oh, yeah." Heaven and Hell chorused. Then they looked at each other, annoyed.

Repora chuckled. "Atar's funny. He yells a lot. Remember that time when we framed Utarz for graffitying the war room and they yelled at each other for an hour?"

They both chuckled. "That was funny." Hell chortled.

"We should have cleaned up the graffiti though." Heaven frowned. Somehow.

"Should we?"

"Pff." Hell said. "Fuck that."

"Yeah." Repora agreed. "Fuck that."

The door opened, Tracer walking in. He stopped immediately upon noticing that Repora was having what appeared to be a conversation with thin air.

"Well we can't all be Mr Polite, Heaven." Repora said. There was a pause, and then he said, "That's because you're mister perfect. And I mean perfect." Pause, as if someone was talking. "Hell! That was uncalled for!" Repora noticed Tracer. "Oh, guys? You gotta go, I think Tracer is getting weirded out." He then turned to Tracer. "Hello!"

"Um…" Tracer didn't quite know how to react. "Who were you talking to?"

"The voices in my head."

"…Why?"

"Well, sometimes they pop onto my shoulder and talk."

"What do you mean?"

"Oh, right. My voices take on physical forms. Heaven is me dressed up like an angel and Hell is me dressed up like the Devil! Well, the human's form of the devil, anyway. There's this other guy called Purgatory but we don't really talk to him much."

This sort of made sense to Tracer. "So basically, what you're telling me is that you have hallucinations, right?"

"Oh, no!" Repora said brightly. "They're just these two angelic figures that appear on my shoulders and give me advice on what to do at times!"

Tracer stared at him. "…Right… hallucinations."

"…Yeah."

"I need to go speak to Atar." Tracer said. "See you later."

"Oh, okay!" Repora said happily.

Tracer slowly walked out of the room. Making his decision, he walked outside and to the plain where Atar and Utarz were arguing. Again.

"That doesn't make sense!" Atar shouted as Tracer approached. "A monkey cannot mow a lawn, it isn't nearly intelligent enough!"

"What does intelligence have to do with mowing a lawn?" Utarz asked, pretending to be confused but really just trying to piss Atar off some more.

Unfortunately, it didn't work, as Atar simply gave up and turned to Tracer. "What is it, Tracer?"

"…I'm a bit concerned for Repora's mental health." Tracer said.

"And you only just noticed?" Utarz said in disbelief.

"No, I knew he was insane, I just didn't know that he had hallucinations that weren't caused by cocaine."

"He does?" Atar asked.

"Yeah." Utarz said. "He believes that there's and angel and a demon on his shoulders that give him advice on what to do at times."

"Yeah- Wait, what? How do you know?" Tracer asked.

"I've known him for almost my entire life. He may be my would-be murderer, but I still picked up a few thinks about him during that time."

"And you didn't think that you should, I don't know, tell us this?" Atar asked.

"I didn't see how it would do anything other than make you guys afraid of him."

"That makes sense." Tracer agreed.

Atar sighed. "Look, whether we like it or not, Repora is our team-mate."

"He's only been here for two days." Utarz pointed out. "He's not officially part of the team."

"That's another thing." Tracer said, realising something. "How come we've been fighting the Marines for **three days?**"

Deciding to ignore the second question, Atar replied, "He'll become part of the team eventually. All I'm saying is that we have to respect him like a team-mate. That means no insulting (shut up Utarz), no executing (for the Prophet's sake Tracer!) and no-"

KA-CHOW

A tracer bullet suddenly went through Atar's neck, spraying out indigo blood. He immediately grabbed his neck in pain.

"HOLY SHIT!" Utarz exclaimed. "ATAR'S DEAD!"

"I'm not dead, you idiot…" Atar hissed. "But I'm going to be in a minute or two…"

To his credit, Tracer hadn't screamed. "Get to the base, quick!"

Utarz took Atar by the arm and led him towards the base. Tracer looked in the direction the bullet came from, then followed.

* * *

**Marines**

"Goddammit, I was aiming for the head!" Ed exclaimed in annoyance. He frowned, then shrugged. "Ah well. They don't have any medical equipment. Blood loss will do the rest."

* * *

**Author's Notes**

**Drama!**

**Sorry this is late. I was working on this other fic. Should be out soon.**

**I think I've mentioned this, but you can ask the Marines and Elites characters questions on my Tumblr. Please visit. It's getting kind of lonely there.**

**Thanks for watching.**

**Potato.**


	15. Update 1

**I WILL REMOVE THIS CHAPTER THE MOMENT MY PROBLEMS ARE OVER**

Quick notes. First off, I recently got Batman: Arkham Origins, so I'll be pretty distracted while I'm at home. Secondly, my school library (which is the place where I write most of my stories) is closed for about two weeks, so that will delay me as well. It'll be a while before I update Marines and Elites.


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